


6 Years

by Renrut



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, ESPECIALLY lots of that, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Lots of that, M/M, whooo boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-09 04:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 70,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7787254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renrut/pseuds/Renrut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens, both new to Mount Vernon, Washington, cross paths when they begin high school. What they don't know is that their interactions will lead to 6 years of friendship, love, and pain when they finally learn to accept the unchangeable past, the unforseeable future, and who they really are. </p><p>((I'm always surprised to learn that Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens only knew each other for 6 years, and yet, their relationship ran so deep. This modern high school/college au shows how much difference 6 years (2010-2016) can really make - both in relationships and in national events. This is my first fic on here, so I hope you enjoy!))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2010-2011

Alexander Hamilton could never be defeated. Since he was born, life had been an uphill battle. Born in Nevis, he and his older brother were left alone. Their father abandoned them and their mother died from a fever. Their only closest relation was a cousin who agreed to care for the two. The arrangement did not last long. Their new guardian committed suicide a few months later, and the brothers were forced to separate in search for a new home. A couple years later, a hurricane decimated Alexander’s town, forcing him to watch his friends, family, and future slip from his grasp like the receding waves left from the flood. Amidst all the sorrow and devastation, Alexander wrote his way out. He wrote his way to the United States; to New York, where he was placed into the foster care system. There, he met Aaron Burr. 

Like Alexander Hamilton, Aaron Burr had also been orphaned at a very young age. He lost his siblings to sickness, just as he had lost his parents. With no other relation able to take him in, Aaron sunk into the foster care system, moving from family to family between New Jersey and New York every couple months. He kept only a worn, olive-green cloth backpack with him as he traveled. Inside was a textbook on law – his only permanent possession. Also like Alexander Hamilton, Aaron Burr never backed down. 

The foster care system in which Alexander and Aaron met presented new obstacles for both the boys. Many of the new challenges they faced were the boys simply trying to tolerate the other. For whatever reason, Alexander and Burr were consistently placed together in the same temporary households. At first, the placements had seemed like harmless coincidences. But, after a while, it became aggravating. 

Aaron despised the way Alexander was always so blunt and abrasive; he was the very definition of impetuous. True, that attitude did seem to get the results Alexander desired, but it also provoked displeasure from their foster parents, which almost always forced them to change households again, and again, and again. Aaron tried his best to wait patiently for the desired actions of his foster parents; a trait that frustrated Alexander to the utmost degree. Alexander viewed Aaron’s attitude to be passive and indifferent to their futures, as if he was wasting time by waiting. He believed that it was Aaron’s ambivalence toward their foster parents that caused them to be tossed aside and forgotten.

There were a few times when Alexander and Aaron were separated, however. Though, in those months apart, the two boys missed each other’s company the most. Despite their differences, they had formed an almost brotherly attachment to one another.

In the winter of 2009, Alexander and Aaron were once again paired together in a household. In the spring of 2010, the two were still there. It was the longest either of them have been able to stay in a foster house: 6 months! Alexander was finally beginning to feel his life piece back together. That was, until he heard the suspicious sounds coming from his and Aaron’s shared bedroom.

That night, Alexander had left to go to the library, but had forgotten…something – he couldn’t remember the exact details. What he did remember was pausing in the hallway of their room. Had he imagined the undecipherable whispers; the sound of a muffled mouth; the shush that followed? Letting his instincts guide him, Alexander peeked inside the bedroom’s barely cracked door. He had to stifle his mouth with both hands as to not scream in horror at the sight. Quickly composing himself, Alexander knocked rapidly on the door, his mind racing. He heard a few seconds of skirmishing and the bed creaking from the release of weight. Alexander and Aaron’s foster father opened the door. Behind him, Aaron was sitting on his twin bed, back turned away from him. Alexander stated the item he had left behind, and their foster father allowed him to enter the room.

Once in the room, Alexander grabbed the worn, olive-green cloth backpack that was on the ground and carefully placed Aaron’s law textbook inside. Next, he grabbed his own backpack and his lone permanent possession, a notebook.

“You’re still going to help me study for our test tomorrow, right, Aaron?” Alexander had asked the boy, who was still sitting on the bed, stock-still. Aaron turned his head a fraction to look at Alexander with the two backpacks in his hand and ever-so-slightly nodded.

Alexander and Aaron left the household and didn’t stop running until they reached the apartment of an acquaintance they had managed to make during their time in the area. For the rest of the night, Alexander wrote furiously about the abuses and maltreatments of kids trapped in the foster care system; about the nights he and Aaron were forced to take their backpacks and move into the next open household; about the futility they faced for being consistently unwanted; about the hopelessness Alexander felt listening to Aaron quietly sob that night.

Alexander’s resulting 8 page document spread to the front page of Reddit, which was then featured in Buzzfeed and online newspaper articles. The document soon went viral, spreading across the nation, though Alexander urged to keep their identity private so that Aaron did not have the entire country knowing the humiliating and horrifying experience was his. Despite their deliberate anonymity, two people were somehow able to get their contact information. A couple days after the document went viral, the boys’ acquaintance received a call from someone who wanted to speak to Alexander and Aaron. Their names were Augustine and Mary Ball Washington. They had a son named George.

The family had seen their story on the news, and read Alexander’s document online. All three unanimously agreed that they could do something to help. They wanted to adopt Alexander and Aaron. After several phone calls and skype interviews and emails back and forth, Alexander and Aaron agreed to see if they really could be adopted by this new family. With Aaron’s worn, olive-green cloth backpack, law textbook, and Alexander’s notebook in tow, the two said goodbye to the East Coast and hello to their potentially new home across the country in Mt. Vernon, Washington State.

Alexander felt Aaron take a shaky breath beside him as he stepped away from the airplane terminal.

###### 

Alexander could never be defeated in the face of a challenge. Aaron refused to be either. The new challenge the two faced before them now was none other than surviving high school.

Their experiences had aged them well beyond their age of High School Freshmen, though Aaron was all but discretely shaking as they walked across the campus of Mt. Vernon High School. Alexander rested his hand on Aaron’s back.

“Are you going to be OK? You have my number in case you need to call, right?” he asked quietly, careful not to lure the attention from other students passing them.

Aaron shrugged out of Alexander’s reach. “I’m…I’m fine. It’s just cold out,” he huffed, tightening his thin jacket around him as emphasis. But he turned to the other gratefully. “But yes, I have it. And you have mine?”

Alexander nodded. “Let’s meet after school, too,” they stopped walking so they could examine the map of the campus they held. Alexander had to unfold his copy multiple times to get the wrinkles out. “Let’s meet…here,” he pointed to a circle on the map. “It’s the flagpole out front. George insists on driving us home, so we gotta be in a place he can see us.”

“Don’t we also have his number? We could just text him where we are.”

“We could, but—“Alexander didn’t want to say why he wanted him and Aaron to wait out in the open; why he didn’t want Aaron to ever be alone again.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to. The first bell alerting students to get to class sounded, and Alexander looked at the map he was once again anxiously wadding up. “Okay, so you have your schedule, your lunch, your—“ he asked Aaron quickly.

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Alexander, I’m not fucking _five_. We’ve…done this before,” sadness flashed for a moment in his expression then was gone.

“Sometimes I forget you’re not a child!” Alexander chided. “But…you’re right. I’ll…” He urged to give his pseudo-brother a hug, but squeezed his shoulder instead. “I’ll meet you by the flag pole!” he called as he began walking toward his class in the other direction. 

###### 

The first day of school passed without too many big events happening. There were just a few awkward moments in classes in which the teacher conducted pointless get-to-know-each-other games. In those, Alexander’s classmates were shocked to discover that he did not have a Twitter, a Tumblr, or at the very least a FaceBook page. He was tempted to see their reaction in finding out that Alexander did not even own a cell phone until that very morning when George Washington handed two new ones to him and Aaron. He was compelled to blurt out how he grew up, where he had been three months ago, who wrote that viral 8 page document, just to watch their expression go blank in surprise; to see if they would finally shut up.

But, he didn’t. Instead, he continued to roll and unroll and fold and unfold the campus map. He restrained himself only in response to Aaron’s advice he had given him that morning: “Talk less. Smile more. We may actually be here a while. So behave.” At the time, Alexander replied with a snide “Okay, dad,” but now took the tip seriously. Maybe he couldn’t be as blunt as he’d like to be if he was going to be stuck with these kids for the next four years. For the first time, he had to think past tomorrow’s interactions.

Or, maybe Alexander checked himself because there was one person who kept showing up in his classes. He didn’t want all the attention to be focused on himself if he wanted to successfully observe this kid across the room.

The boy was nearly impossible to miss. For one, he was almost late to every class Alexander had with him. He, too, held a crumpled map of the campus in one hand, and a copy of his class schedule in the other. His curly hair – despite being cut short – bounced on his head as he walked, contrasting the neatly primed cuts the other students brandished. (In this way, the boy’s hair was even more contrasting to Alexander’s hair, which seemed to stick out in the oddest places despite its short length.) The boy’s eyes were accentuated by dark circles that screamed sleep deprivation and his face exhibited a surprisingly large splattering of freckles. After a sharp _ding!_ rang through the room as his hand came in contact with the metal chair legs, Alexander noticed a unique bracelet around his left wrist. A smooth stone was wrapped tightly in the string, and the boy would absentmindedly rub his thumb along the stone when it was his turn to speak.

The pointless get-to-know-each-other games in Alexander’s classes did serve one purpose after all. From them, he learned that the boy’s name was John; John Laurens to be exact. He also learned that his birthday was October 28, and he owned two pet turtles. He had an accent that was hard to place, and he had been homeschooled until 2 years ago. He liked animals, but could only draw them in a cartoonish style without a reference.

In these games, Alexander answered each question carefully, making sure no one knew too much about his past. For John’s answers, he made sure to tuck each of them away in his memory.

When the bell rang for lunch, Alexander grabbed his backpack and walked away from the cafeteria. He wasn’t quite in the mood to eat, and was certainly not in the mood to deal with all the awkward forced interactions of high school lunch. Instead, he sauntered through the now-empty hallways, enjoying his time alone and his chance to explore the campus. Maybe he would get a chance to write in his notebook that was now safely resting in his new backpack. He readjusted the shoulder straps on his backpack for the fiftieth time that day. He was so used to having nothing that it would take a while for him to get used to the weight of the new items the Washingtons had provided for him inside.

As he rounded the corner, he spotted John Laurens sitting alone on a bench, his tray of food untouched next to him, and an open notebook in his lap. It appeared that he was writing quite intently in it. Alexander began to approach, but stopped when he saw Aaron walking outside. He pushed open the doors leading outside and called for him to wait up.

“Why are you skipping lunch?” Alexander asked once he got closer.

Aaron raised his eyebrows. “I could ask the same for you,” he retorted and gestured around the campus, which was honestly a bit grey and bleak. “I just wanted to explore the area a bit.”

“Same,” Alexander responded, though they both knew that was only half true. “So wh—“ a sharp ding interrupted him mid-sentence. He pulled out his new phone and saw that George had texted them, _Where are u guys? I saved you a seat._ He sighed. “I guess George is looking for us; maybe we should head back.”

The two trudged back to the cafeteria, where George greeted them with an overly friendly clap on the back. He left his hands there for a second too long, as if he was anxious they were wild animals, on the verge of running away.

“Aaron! Alexander! These are Nathan and Henry!” George indicated to two other boys sitting at his table. Alexander knew that George was a junior this year, so he could only assume that these boys were upperclassmen as well.

“Aaron, I heard that you wanted to study law,” the boy named Nathan stated as he and Alexander sat down. Aaron smiled and nodded curtly in response. “Well, if you’re interested, we have a Mock Trial Club here,” he procured a flyer (that was obviously made by a student) and handed it to Aaron. “It’s a little selective, but George had told us a little bit about your work. We’d love to see you in action. Just say that ‘Nathanael Greene’ recommended you at the room on that form, and we’ll give you more info.” Aaron smiled again and tucked the flyer into his worn backpack.

“Tell ‘em ‘Henry Knox’ recommended you too!” the other boy chimed in. “I helped create that club y’know, so my opinion is probably more powerful than Nathan’s,” Henry ignored Nathan’s huff and turned to Alexander. “And you! George told about your writing; he even showed us some of your work!” Alexander felt his face drop and his shoulders tense, but Henry didn’t notice. “We could really use your skills to win some cases! What if you became our secretary?” the upperclassmen laughed, but Alexander was far from joining in.

 _Did George show them that viral document? Do they know how we came here??_ “Be your secretary? I don’t think so,” he hissed under his breath. Only Aaron noticed.

“Why’re you upset?” he whispered.

“I’m not –” Alexander began, clearly upset, but ceased upon receiving a warning glare. _Talk less. Smile more._ He took a breath, and responded tartly, “I’ll give it some thought,” to Henry.

That answer ended the conversation. The rest of lunch and the rest of the day continued to pass. Finally, the first day of high school was over. Alexander stood by the flagpole to wait for Aaron and George.

He checked the time on his phone anxiously. Ten minutes, and still no sign of either of them. He shot off a _Where are you??_ text and flinched as a raindrop hit his neck. Looking up, he realized that it had started to drizzle. As long as it wasn’t too strong, he would be fine, he told himself. He looked forward again in time to see a student walking slightly in front of a young woman with black, curly hair crossing the courtyard. The papers the young woman was carrying were suddenly flown in the air as she tripped over the student’s shoes. The student proceeded to walk away. Alexander grimaced at the cruelty and rushed to help the young woman clean up the mess.

As Alexander helped collect the soggy papers, another boy rounded the corner and began to assist as well. Alexander looked up and recognized the dark curly locks and tired eyes. It was John Laurens, the notebook he was working in before now tucked under his arm. The two finished cleaning up the mess, and the young woman thanked them each very genuinely, her great volume of curly hair bouncing. John offered a crooked smile in return, of which Alexander was surprised to see on such a bleak day.

“You’re…John, right?” he asked as she continued on her way.

Another cloud-parting smile. “Yeah! And you’re Alexander. We have a few classes together.”

Alexander nodded as they began to walk. “Three, right?”

John thought for a second. “I think…four, actually. I saw you at that PE meeting in the gym today.”

“Ah…” Alexander contemplated and heard a sharp chime from his phone. He took it out and read Aaron’s response to his previous text: _By the flag pole with George. Where are you??_ He looked at the flagpole he was previously waiting at; no one else was there. “Are…There’s not any other flag poles around here, are there?” he asked John.

“I think I saw one in the front of the school,” he answered, opening up his notebook to look at the map inside. He showed Alexander, who gawked at his own stupidity. He’d been waiting at the wrong pole the entire time. Gathering his backpack, he began to walk across campus with John. “Who are you meeting?” John asked.

“My…” Alexander began. _Friend? Enemy? Frenemy who through a series of misfortunate events, is now my adopted brother? That’d be a pretty weird description to give John._ “My brother, Aaron Burr,” he concluded plainly.

John raised his eyebrows. “I have Aaron in one of my classes. You say he’s your brother? But you’re –”

“We’re, uhm, adopted,” Alexander interjected, sparing John the awkwardness of pointing out the differences in their skin tones. “From New York, actually. We just came here a couple months ago; a kid here named George Washington and his family agreed to take us in. It’s the first time we ever left the East Coast since-” He stopped talking abruptly. What came over him? For the past few years, he purposefully kept his mouth shut about his past, but suddenly he wanted to spill everything to John, just like the rain beginning to spill from the sky. He flinched again as another raindrop hit his skin.

John sounded his amazement. “Yo, that’s pretty cool. Must be kind of a big change, huh?”

Alexander only nodded to prevent any more spilling. _Talk less._ A couple more minutes of silence passed, and he reflected on John’s pronunciation of words. His vowels were pronounced with a much rounder inflection, and his “r’s” seemed to carry into the next word. “John, where are you from?”

He chuckled and looked down. “Damn, I’ve been trying to correct this accent. Well, I was born and raised in South Carolina - in Charleston. But two years ago, my father took my siblings and me to England.” This time Alexander raised his eyebrows in surprise, but John’s eyes were oddly shaded. He rubbed the stone on his bracelet quickly and snapped out of his trance. “Now…here we are,” he gestured around him. “We actually just moved into our new house last night. I’m…a little bit more than jet-lagged to be honest.”

“Wow…I guess that beats my story,” Alexander and John laughed. They finally reached the front of the school, where Aaron and George were standing. “I’d really like to hear more about _England!_ Do you think we can talk more about it later?” he asked John sincerely.

John grinned. “Yeah, that’d be great! And it might be cool to hear about New York too!” Alexander hid the panic in his face at that. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow!” He waved goodbye, the stone bracelet he had noticed earlier bouncing on his wrist, and started to walk away from the campus.

Alexander met up with Aaron and George at the correct flag pole. Aaron, phone clutched tightly in his hand, was glaring at him in annoyance, but George greeted him warmly. “Well, Alex, looks like you already made a friend!”

“That’s new,” Aaron muttered.

“Shut it,” Alexander shot back, and the three headed toward George’s car in the parking lot.

###### 

The Washingtons had been extremely generous to the newest additions to their family. That night, they fixed a celebratory meal for Aaron and Alexander for a successful first day of school. Even after George reassured Alexander that he hadn’t revealed to anyone that he wrote the viral document, he couldn’t help feeling defensive and stony around his new family. That night, Alexander tried his best to bite his tongue whenever he was compelled to snap for being treated like a child while Aaron tried his best to be as warm as he could be. He smiled much more than was necessary, but couldn’t hide his wariness around their new father figure.

Grateful as he was for the Washingtons’ kindness, Alexander was uneasy from the dark clouds over the house for the rest of the night. He excused himself to go to his and Aaron’s shared bedroom. Once there, he took out his notebook and began to translate all his experiences, feelings, and anxieties during the day into an endless stream of writing.

A couple hours passed, and he found a pair of pajama pants in the suitcase he had brought from New York. He finished changing and tucked his notebook, old clothes, and suitcase back under his bed.

Once in bed, the rain had stopped outside his window, and Alexander could breathe easily again. He sunk into the pillow and several blankets on his bed. Aaron across the room had already fallen asleep.

Alexander laid back and stared up at the dark ceiling, lost in thought. This arrangement is certainly…not the worst we’ve had, he concluded. He looked around the room. The walls were bare, devoid of any personality or character. There was one dresser, one desk, one bedside table with a lamp on it in the room with them. The carpet had been obviously vacuumed recently, and everything was laid pristine and spotless – just for Alexander’s and Aaron’s arrival. Yet Alexander felt like an intruder; an annoying stain on the immaculate carpet. He pulled his knees closer to his chest, attempting to make himself smaller.

The Washingtons tried so hard to accommodate him and Aaron, he knew that. George, with an overzealous attitude, tried to be their older brother, and their new parents did their best to make the two feel at home. When they first moved into their room, Mary Ball Washington suggested that he and Aaron personalize it by setting down personal items or posters on the walls. Two months later, her suggestion was still left unacted upon; their suitcases were continued to sit, unpacked, under their beds.

Alexander shut his eyes and attempted to sleep in the unfamiliar bed. 

###### 

About two weeks passed. Despite all the bleak and washed-out days, John Laurens could not help but appreciate the beauty of Washington State on his walks to and from the school. True, every day seemed to be on the verge of a storm, but he was used to that weather in England. It was when the clouds finally parted did the similarities between Washington and England end. John reveled at the sight of the street nearly glowing from the reflected sun on the wet concrete; at the view of Mt. Rainier and the Cascades in the distance; at how his new friend Alexander looked so happy when the sun came out. 

Said friend greeted John with a shaky smile one morning. “Glad the rain finally stopped today,” he stated, quivering slightly. He had a band-aid on his thumb, and was currently fiddling with the wrapping as they walked side-by-side to their first period together. 

John voiced his agreement and really looked at Alexander for the first time. His friend’s short hair was damp from the rain, and his eyes seemed to recede back into his skull. The expression he held was just as stormy as the weather had been the previous night. In short, Alexander looked terrible. “You feelin okay, man?” John asked as they entered the school’s main building.

Alexander stifled a yawn and replied quietly, “Just a long night.” 

The two entered their class and sat near the back of the room. Since the first day they had met, John and Alexander steadily became closer. They tried to sit near one another in each of their classes. In doing so, John noticed some patterns about his friend. Alexander was quite literally nonstop. He took notes furiously, his handwriting almost illegible at times. Even when he wasn’t writing, he was constantly moving; constantly doing something with his hands. Sometimes it was scratching the yellow primer off his pencil; sometimes picking at his skin on his fingers or lip; today it was fiddling with his cloth band-aid on his thumb. It was not unusual for Alexander to shoot his hand up in the air to answer something, correct the teacher, or ask a question well beyond the class’s coursework. 

John, on the other hand, was only able to keep himself awake by absentmindedly doodling over his notes. He would try to doodle in a large range of subject matter, but since moving to Mt. Vernon, he started to show favoritism toward the native birds and plants around him. The daily practice greatly improved his artistic skill. Recently, he began to sketch the people around him. Sometimes he tried to capture the likeness of students sitting directly in front of him, or of the teacher talking to act like he was actually paying attention to the lecture. However, more often than not, he would draw Alexander. The boy had so many unique features that were almost impossible for John to mimic on paper. He began to notice the way Alexander’s eyebrows raised when he laughed, how his eyes nearly glared when in seriousness, and how his lips draped over his teeth when he was concentrating. Alexander’s curved nose, John could get alright, but his eyes – those dark expanses – carried so much weight that he could never quite capture the depth they held. 

A crumpled piece of paper collided with John’s head, snapping him out of his reflective state. Startled, he unfolded the note and read it quickly with a frown. _Going to draw more of your boyfriend today?_ it read. John turned around and scowled at the sender: some kid named Sam Seabury, who looked dreadfully similar to a weasel. Whenever John would draw Alexander in class, he would angle his paper away so his friend would not see. Unfortunately, this placed his work right in Seabury’s line of sight, who sat diagonally behind him. The boy (intolerable prick, more like, John grimaced) noticed that John’s subject matter was mostly male, and made it his goal to torment John with this knowledge.

John felt a burst of indignation rise at Seabury’s snide face, but managed to quell the fire by turning around once he began to mouth something undoubtedly inappropriate. He briefly considered drawing girls with huge breasts to appease Seabury’s mocking, but quickly discarded the notion. As the teacher began to lecture, John picked up pencil and tried to capture the intent expression Alexander displayed today. 

The day bore on normally as John continued to amass his doodles. The bell for lunch rang, and he claimed a table for himself and Alexander. Sometimes Aaron Burr would join them, but John noted that he tended to sit with their older brother George more often. He set his bag and notebook down on the table to save the spot before getting in line for food. 

When he got back, however, he noticed that his notebook had been moved slightly; Seabury was also suspiciously close. The hint of red that peeked out under the notebook’s cover made John open it. 

“What. _The actual fuck?!_ ” John whipped around and shoved the page at Seabury’s face accusingly. The page used to be one of John’s many sketches of Alexander – probably one of John’s favorite sketches of his friend because he finally began to capture his likeness. Now, the sketch was ruined with the vandalism of the thick, red sharpie reading _FAG!_ across the page. Seabury sneered at John and tried to move past him, but John blocked his path. “Seabury. _Why the Hell would you do this_.”

The other boy rolled his eyes. “Just telling it like it is,” he answered coolly. John cheeks grew red with anger as he continued. “Oh, you disagree? You must admit it is a little weird. Every day I’m forced to watch you stare so…dreamily at him! It’s disgusting, that’s what.” John clenched and unclenched his hands. A few people glanced in their direction as Seabury’s voice grew louder. “Y’know, there’s a reason why homosexuality is a sin in the Bible. Why DOMA exists.”

John tried to keep his voice low. “Then the Bible is wrong. DOMA is wrong.”

“Oh! Hear ye! Hear ye!” Seabury mocked for dramatic effect. A large number of students in the cafeteria were now attentively watching the drama, drawn in by Seabury’s loud announcement. “Our very own _John Laurens_ thinks he knows better – nay; IS better – than the Gospel of God AND federal jurisdiction! Johnny, care to explain your opinion on the matter?”

“Oh my God, tear this dude apart,” John heard someone say at a nearby table. _Gladly,_ he thought before stepping forward to sock Seabury in the mouth. He halted, however, at the hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw Alexander stepping up beside him. 

Alexander had been walking to the cafeteria with Aaron when he heard the commotion. Seeing that John was involved, he quickly rushed to his classmate’s side. Now, Seabury was grinning eagerly at his arrival. “Great! Your boyfriend is here to add his take on the matter.” Alexander didn’t flinch at the label, but John flushed a bright red. “Alex, please enlighten us how wrong John is.” At Alexander’s still confused expression, Seabury rolled his eyes. “Leviticus 20:13,” he cited. “’If a man lies with a man as one lies with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable.’ How could the Bible be any clearer? Homosexuality is a sin,” he jabbed a finger at John. 

Alexander calmly stepped between them and lowered Seabury’s hand. “You’re using the Bible with your argument?” _This is gonna be too easy._ "I’m sure you’ve enjoyed some pork or maybe some shrimp in your life. Also in Leviticus, 11:7: ‘And the pig, though it has a split hoof completely divided, does not chew the cud; it is unclean for you.’ And in Leviticus 11:10, ‘All creatures in the seas that do not have fins or scales…you are to detest.’ The very same book in the Bible of which you are so adamant about following also lists these rules that you may break in your diet alone. Let’s not forget to mention Exodus 21:15 ‘Anyone who attacks his father or mother must be put to death’ or even Exodus 31:14 ‘…whoever does any work on that day (the Sabbath) must be cut off from his people’. Honestly, if you’re going to follow the rules of the Bible, at least be faithful to _all_ of them!”

Seabury attempted to interject, but Alexander cut him off. “One more thing: did you notice that all these rules were in the Old Testament? To Christians, those are considered the old law. Did you just forget the New Testament; y’know, that whole thing of Jesus coming down and saving everyone from their own sin? Jeremiah 31:31-34 describes the new covenant of Jesus replacing the old. I’m sorry, but did Jesus fucking stutter when he told people to love their neighbor as themselves –” 

“Alexander, please!” Aaron pleaded behind him. _Talk less!_ his expression urged.

“Burr, I’d rather be divisive than indecisive,” he directed at Aaron before whipping back to Seabury, who had tried distancing himself from Alexander’s tirade. “Let’s drop the niceties.”

“E-even so,” Seabury spluttered in response. “The majority of elected officials agree that homosexuality is wrong. Just look at the Defense of Marriage Act, and the court rulings of Bowers v. Harwick – ”

“Bowers v. Harwick was overruled in 2003 by Lawrence v. Texas!” Alexander shot back. “People in charge realized ‘Hey! Maybe all these anti-sodomy laws _maybe_ are a violation of our right of privacy and right to just be human.’ And some of those ‘elected officials’ are actually starting to change their mind as well. It’s 2010 – fourteen states, including fuckin _Iowa,_ have legalized same-sex unions! It’s ridiculous that people have to travel to another state – or even another country – to legally marry someone they love; and if they return to a state that bans their marriage, they are in fact not bonded in the face of the law. Honestly, the entire sy--”

“ _A-HEM._ ” Both of them turned to the source of the voice: an adult, presumably a teacher, who Alexander didn’t recognize. From his haughty expression and locked back, he gave the impression that he would be much more natural with a crown and scepter accompanying him. 

Alexander stiffly stepped away from Seabury, just now realizing how in-his-face he had gotten, and how many heads were now turned watching their shouting match. With a final huff, Seabury pivoted and walked away angrily. The adult, too, departed and much of the normal cafeteria noise resumed. The young woman Alexander had helped his first day could be seen slightly away from the tables, clapping after the confrontation ended. Still slightly shaking, Alexander sat down and Aaron rushed over to scold him. 

“Why didn’t you stop, Alexander?! Don’t you know that was Principal Geor – ”

“Stop trying to suppress me,” he snapped. “If you stand for nothing, Burr, what’ll you fall for?”

Aaron opened his mouth to object but both were distracted by the people’s increasing volume at the table beside them. “Ooh, who are you?” “Who is this kid??” they made out. “Kid, come here,” they directed Alexander once he looked over. Mouth a thin line, Aaron went back to his table with George, Nathan, and Henry while Alexander joined the two boys. John, who had watched the entire thing in utter astonishment finally sat down beside Alexander. 

The two boys were both black and had wide eyes marveling Alexander. One had big square glasses and a large amount of dark curly hair tied into a poofy ponytail. The other boy was shorter and had a dark blue beanie in his hand. “Kid, that was sure something,” the latter laughed. He looked over at his friend. “Amazing, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oui, oui, amazing,” the other boy agreed with a huge grin, a French accent punctuating his words. “We have known Seabury since seventh year, et he is…”

“An _absolute_ dick,” the first boy offered.

“Oui, total,” the other laughed. 

“This is the first time he’d been completely _beaT DOWN though!_ ” Alexander couldn’t help chuckling at the boy’s enthusiasm and began to relax a bit. “Hercules, by the way,” he said, extending a hand toward Alexander and John. “This is Marie– ”

“J’amapelle Lafayette!” the other boy interrupted, grabbing their hands before Hercules had a chance to. “Please, call me Lafayette.”

Alexander shook hands with the other students gladly and introduced himself. John, who was still clutching his notebook to himself, shyly completed his introduction and sunk into a reserved state that lasted the rest of the day. 

Once the last bell of the day rung, Alexander and John were left to wander the empty campus together. Aaron and George both made the mock trial team, and now had meetings after school almost every day in the week. John had agreed to wait with Alexander for the club meeting to finish. Usually, they would just walk around and talk about whatever came to mind, but that day, there had been 20 minutes of walking so far, and neither boys said anything.

Finally, the awkward silence became too much for John to bear. “Alexander…I just wanted to say thanks. For what you did today with Seabury. It was amazing to watch,” he let out a fake laugh. 

Alexander turned to smile at his classmate. “It was nothing; I always like to knock jerks on pedestals back to their right level.” He expected at least a chuckle to come from John in response, but received only a half-hearted shrug instead, his eyes still downcast. 

A few more minutes of silence. “I’m…I’m not, by the way,” John said quietly.

“…You’re not what?”

“What Seabury said I was.”

“…. …. What did he say you were?”

John stopped walking and turned to his friend incredulously. “The whole reason we started fighting! Seabury, he…” John opened his notebook angrily and shoved the vandalized paper to Alexander. “He called me a _fag_!”

Alexander took the paper and carefully examined it, his eyebrows angling up in concern. “He’s more of a prick than I anticipated,” he said quietly. “But…of course you’re not a _fag_ ,” John felt an instinctive flash of defensiveness. “I mean, I’m going to assume fag is short for faggot, which is just a bundle of sticks. And you, my dear Laurens, are not a bundle of sticks,” he looked up from the paper and John, despite himself, laughed at Alexander’s proud concluding expression, as if his roundabout thinking was the correct answer.

“No, Alexander, he’s accusing me of being _gay_!” John spat out the word. “And-and I’m not!!”

“Well, ‘accusing’ makes it sound as if being gay is bad,” Alexander noted, still examining the paper. John’s face flushed. “And it’s not bad. It’d be absolutely fine if you, or anyone else were. Why do you think Seabury thinks you are gay?”

“I don’t know!” John huffed. “I mean…I do wear nicer, maybe more stylish, clothes. But that’s just because we had to in England y’know, for our classes and stuff? And, yeah, I probably smell more girly than the other guys here, but that’s only because I have a couple sisters, right? They have a lot of perfume and other girly stuff. E-even my father,” he brought his fingers up to the edge of his cut hairline. “He said that when my hair got too long, it made me look like a ‘poof’. And then there’s my drawing – ” he indicated toward the paper. “He probably thinks it’s really gay of me to be into art, y’know??”

For the first time, Alexander saw John’s defensive and panicked expression. He gave him a reassuring look. “All those things…they don’t define your sexuality. Only you have the power to do that,” he handed John back the paper. “Your art is honestly pretty great. I’m sorry Seabury had to ruin something so beautiful.”

John felt himself blush immensely at Alexander’s words and expression. His eyes – once so clouded and distant at the beginning of the day – were now pinpointed on _him_ ; focused as if he were the most important thing in the world. John felt pleasantly lost in those dark expanses and struggled to break free. He started to reach for Alexander’s neck, but grabbed his shoulder instead in gratitude. “Thank you,” he smiled; the talk from his friend was the perfect thing he needed right now. 

Alexander received a text that Aaron and George were done. “You know that that sketch on the paper was you, right?” John confessed as they walked back to the school building. 

“I suspected it,” Alexander smiled. “I thought I recognized my nose.”

John laughed easier now. “The curve was a little hard to copy,” he booped Alexander’s nose for emphasis, which Alexander protested against before chuckling himself.

“Well…now that Seabury messed up a perfectly good rendition of me,” Alexander flipped his nonexistent long hair. “Would you need another chance to draw me?”

John attempted to hide his excitement. “Y-yeah! That would be perfect! We’re actually going to start a portraiture unit in my art class soon, so this is great timing. Here, let me give you my number so we can arrange something.” The two exchanged phone numbers, and then parted to go home. John looked back at George’s car disappearing from view, and couldn’t help but notice the beauty around him opening up after the rain.

###### 

The first quarter of the school year came and went. Alexander and Aaron felt odd to still be in the same place with the same people for so long. It was usually that time in the year they had to move to another location, yet here they still were. George seemed much more at ease around them, though Alexander still felt pangs of annoyance whenever he slipped into his paternal taming-a-wild-animal attitude around them. 

For the most part, other students and teachers had accepted Aaron as one of their own; his patient and neutral attitude bode well with most everyone. He was quite proud to have been selected as the leading lawyer in the school’s Mock Trial Club. Alexander, on the other hand, found it hard to extinguish his fiery and polarizable passion. He thoroughly alienated almost all the students – and even teachers – he came into contact with. Only John, Lafayette, and Hercules seemed to stick around for the pure entertainment of watching him work and rant. 

Despite all the notes Alexander furiously took in his classes, he rarely turned anything in. He simply didn’t see the point of doing so…until the Washingtons received a notification from the school that he was failing almost all his classes. His foster parents gave him a stern lecturing that evening, of which Burr compounded upon by telling him to “think past tomorrow". Even if only for others’ sake, Alexander finally started working to get his grades up. That work, however, generally included that Alexander procrastinate completing all the assignments he saw as pointless until the last moment in a writing frenzy. In those times, he wrote like he was running out of time. Alexander devoted all the time open from procrastination to writing in his notebook about things he actually cared about, and spending time with John.

Alexander was indeed serious about John drawing his portrait. A couple days after making the suggestion, John invited him to his house, which was apparently only a few minutes walking from their school. After much reassurance that Aaron would be absolutely fine under the watch of George, Alexander finally acquiesced to John’s invitation. 

John’s house was a little more on the wealthy side. It had two stories, and a nicely cut lawn out front. Alexander gawked at the furnishings in the interior of the house once John opened the door. Everything was sleek and unique; purposefully placed and obsessively cleaned. It was hard to imagine that John had three younger siblings living with him in such a pristine place. With such a large family, however, the house was surprisingly cold and almost unwelcoming. Then again, John was with him, which seemed to make up for the museum-like quality the house displayed. 

As they entered the main hall, the two boys took off their shoes and placed them on a rack. John dropped his house keys inside a ceramic bowl next to a larger dish. Eight smooth, polished stones laid in the basin, surrounding one large piece of granite. John rested his fingers gently on the large rock as if he were cradling a face for a few seconds, then continued his way through the hall. Alexander wordlessly followed him. 

John’s bedroom, at least, seemed to have some personality. Like his hair, the items in the room were all over the place, but at least had the effort of being contained. The majority of the clutter rested on the desk in one corner of the room. Alexander sifted through the half-done sketches and completed watercolor pieces that were lain there. 

“This one’s good…ooh, this one too. This one – no, the other one’s better. John, you’ve got some fuckin talent for nature; are you sure you want to try _people_?” Alexander voiced his opinion with a bluntness and loudness that bounced around the cold house and warmed John. 

Alexander talked incessantly – that was a fact John learned very quickly. But in his straightforward and honest attitude, John felt comfort in his speech; in the fact that he did not need to dwell too much on his own issues to offer commentary upon if Alexander was monopolizing their time by talking. In this way, John could listen to Alexander ramble on about absolutely nothing for hours. 

Even with the goal of drawing Alexander’s portrait, the boys kept getting off-topic. Finally, John resorted to simply sketching Alexander while he talked and moved around. The “portraits” were much like the doodles John practiced in class, but somehow messier because of Alexander’s increased mobility. 

Neither boy seemed to mind the off-topic and eccentric conversations they eventually landed upon. John cherished the times he could listen to Alexander, and Alexander felt comfort in John’s quiet and nonjudgmental listening.

###### 

As the year progressed, so did the severity of the weather. Alexander could handle the frequent rainy days the Pacific Northwest exhibited. The thunder and lightning storms, however, were another story. Those storms were usually unleashed in the evening, which meant that Alexander could lock himself in the Washingtons’ bathroom and do whatever it took to not scream out in fear and anxiety. 

The sound of the interminable rain drumming on the roof was an all too familiar beat Alexander knew to be part of the song of destruction. Every storm, he nervously awaited the chorus of horrendous shrieks and splitting wood that accompanied the ensemble of thunder claps and lightning strikes. Yet, every storm so far lacked the expected orchestration of destruction, leaving Alexander to come out of the bathroom with a tear-stained face and more than often, bloody lips and hands. 

“Another storm is expected tonight,” Hercules announced one day at lunch. Alexander’s body stiffened at the words. “Supposed to be pretty bad, too,” he went on, bringing out the news report on his phone. “Looks like flooding season has begun.”

“It…it _floods_ here?” Alexander asked nervously. 

“Oui, Mt. Vernon is prone to it,” Lafayette answered. “Usually after the snow melts, or,” he indicated toward Hercules’s phone. “After a big storm.” Finally, he noticed Alexander’s panicked expression. “Oh! But do not be afraid! People come together to build a wall of sandbags during this time. Et we are inland, so do not be afraid,” Alexander tried to reciprocate Lafayette’s reassuring smile he gave now. “Ah…speaking of, does anyone have any extra boots for rain? My brother lost his.”

“I think I do,” John piped in. “You can see if they’ll work after school today. We can walk to my house pretty easily from here. Alexander, do you want to come, too?”

Alexander tried to erase the uneasiness in his face before meeting John’s eyes. He hardly needed an excuse to spend time with John; the boy made nearly perfect company for him, and he found himself increasingly comfortable in his presence. Perhaps being with him at this time would be a good distraction from the imminent danger of the storm. “Sure,” he answered nonchalantly. 

As if on cue, the rain began to come down after school. John, Alexander, and Lafayette barely made it to the house before the downpour began. Alexander was left to sit motionless on a couch while Lafayette and John went off to search for boots. The rain outside pounded into a beat of fear, and Alexander struggled to give all his attention to a single speck on the floor while carefully drawing his shaky breaths in and out. Hours seemed to pass before the two boys finally came back up, boots in tow. 

_Shit, this was a mistake. I need to go somewhere I can deal with this. Alone. This was a mistake._ Alexander cursed to himself as he trailed behind Lafayette to the door. He had been stupid to believe that John, though he viewed him as someone who took away all his problems, was someone who could magically fix his instilled fear of storms. John finally noticed his friend’s uncharacteristic silence and distant stare once he reached the door. Lafayette opened the door for them to leave, but a sudden crack of thunder made Alexander suck in his breath and fall backwards. 

Lafayette instinctively snickered at his friend’s response, but ceased immediately when Alexander had not yet gotten back up. “Are you feeling well, mon amie?”

“I’m fine; I’m fine,” Alexander answered too quickly. He tried to stand back up, but his hand was too shaky to support himself. 

“Yo, I…I think he’s having a panic attack,” John’s voice sounded in the distance. Alexander struggled to refocus his vision. Once he did, he realized that he had somehow been transported to John’s bed. The bedroom walls he had grown accustomed to over the past few months seemed claustrophobic now. He clutched the comforter under him and heard Lafayette’s voice somewhere in the room.

“George! Oui, Alexander is with us; we are in John’s house. Alexander, he seems to be having a bad, ah, reaction to the storm. Is…” a long pause. “Oh! Aaron says this is, ah, ‘normal’,” he told John, sounding closer. _Where is John?_ The thought flit through Alexander’s mind. _Oh, he’s right beside me,_ he realized his right hand was now gripping John’s hand rather than the blanket. “Et, is there anything we can do...oh. Just…just wait for it to pass?” Lafayette uncertainly looked over at the pale and quivering mess that was Alexander. “…okay. Merci, okay. Good luck to you,” Lafayette hung up and came over. “George et Aaron are going to help with the wall of sandbags,” he relayed to John. “Aaron said that Alexander has bad reactions to storms. He just told us to, ah…wait it out.”

John’s brow furrowed. “This is not something we can just wait to pass!” he cried out incredulously, looking at his friend. Alexander had shut his eyes and bit his now-bleeding lip. Nothing seemed to drown out the torrential downpour outside. 

Lafayette paced the room nervously. John tried to stroke his friend’s hand comfortingly, but to no avail. Alexander was as fretful as ever. Tears began to fall freely from his closed eyes. 

Suddenly, Lafayette stopped. “Ah!” John turned to face him, urging him to quickly continue. “When me et my brother were nervous, our mother did an exercise with us. She would count; we would repeat it back. It focused us on one simple activity, et soon, we were nervous no longer!” He beamed at John. “Let us try counting with Alexander.”

John turned back to look at Alexander. _It was worth a shot._ He used his free hand to stroke Alexander’s face to get him to open his eyes. Brushing the tears away, Alexander’s vision began to clear but the raging storm blocked out John’s words to him. All he could see was John’s face painted with concern. His eyes intently stared back at him, and Alexander found the rest of the room blurred out; the only clear thing existing was John. He did everything he could to focus on him. For the first time, Alexander noticed just how many freckles John possessed on his face. He followed the constellation-like pattern as they curved around his cheeks and popped individually on his brow. One curly strand of hair flopped over his forehead. His normally jovial eyes were now a mix of concern and concentration. He observed the small muscles on his jaw reflexing and finally registered his lips moving; the sound that was coming out. Finally, his hearing shifted from the steady beat of the rain to whatever was being said.

“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf,” a voice said in the distance.

“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf,” John repeated a bit slower. 

“Good. Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf,”

“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf,” John repeated again. Alexander was mesmerized by the movement of his mouth forming the foreign words. “Alexander…” he looked back up into John’s eyes at the familiar sound of his name. “Repeat after us,” he said softly. 

“Sept, huit, neuf.”

“Sept, huit, neuf.”

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine,” he and Lafayette said together. Alexander struggled through his repetition, the muscles in his jaw and tongue readjusting after the induced restraint. 

“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf,” John said slowly and Alexander tried his best to reciprocate the foreign sounds. He felt himself rising to sit after each repetition. John sent Lafayette to get a glass of water and more blankets for Alexander. 

Soon, Alexander sat face to face with John, their close proximity almost making him go cross-eyed as he continued to intently focus on the other boy. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine……Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf,” he mumbled quietly as John’s face began to unwind into an expression of relief. Alexander absent-mindedly traced his fingers on all the features of John’s face he had concentrated so greatly on during the exercise. 

He moved his thumb over John’s freckles like a game of connect-the-dots, and tried to move the one loose curl away from John’s face. His fingers trailed down his face, following the curves and ridges until they met John’s lips, which were moving to the beat of the counting. They weren’t moving anymore, however. In fact, Alexander came to realize they hadn’t been moving for a while. “…” He blinked out of his concentrated daze and found for the first time he had gotten so close that his own mouth made contact with John’s. John’s shocked eyes matched his, and he slowly pulled away.

“That…I…I’m sorry,” Alexander stuttered out, his face flushing red. After a few moments, he registered that John was still comfortingly running his thumb against the hands that they held. Looking up, he realized that John looked just as flustered as he felt, but not mad. He stared back, eyes wide with a mix of emotions, and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Lafayette reentering the room. 

Alexander began shaking again as thunder rumbled far away, and Lafayette draped a blanket over his shoulders. “Mon amie, we are glad you are out of your reaction!” he danced around, rejoicing. 

Alexander tried to give a smile, but the reminder of the severity of the storm caused his heart rate to increase. Before any serious anxiety settled in again, John wrapped his arms around his middle, drawing him closer to his chest. “Just focus. Focus on me,” he said softly into the top of his head. 

Gulping down his rising nervousness, Alexander followed John’s instructions. Rather than letting the rain rattle inside his mind, he instead let himself get lost in the enveloping warmth of John’s arms and chest. He matched the rate of his breathing to John’s, and sunk deeper into his embrace. Pulling the blanket tighter, Alexander realized for the first time in many years, he finally felt safe.

###### 

Though there were several more rough downpours that year, Alexander never had such a severe panic attack again. That was because whenever Alexander felt his anxiety rising, he would actively find a way to be with John until the storm passed. When a storm occurred late at night, Aaron could hear Alexander muttering, “Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf…..sept, huit, neuf...sept, huit, neuf……one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight nine,” in an almost sing-song voice over the phone. 

Alexander was most at ease, however, when he was able to physically be in John’s presence during a nasty storm. In those times, John would wrap him up in one of his blankets and in his arms. He would coax him to talk through the panic, and in doing so, Alexander was able to stay in the present. When he was with John, he stopped being plagued by flashbacks of the hurricane. If Alexander was still being haunted by visions of his past, John would often kiss different parts of Alexander’s face. The act served as a pleasant reminder that Alexander was not trapped in the eye of a hurricane. Rather, he was warm; he was safe; and he was protected by John. 

Their freshman year soon came to a close. Aaron and Alexander ended their first year of high school with decent grades, something that the Washingtons celebrated. It was the first year of school either boy had completely participated in since being in the foster care system. June 2011 marked their one-year anniversary in the Washington’s household. 

Reflecting back on the year, Alexander couldn’t help thinking fondly of all the people he had encountered. The Washingtons, who welcomed him and Aaron with open arms, continued to treat them as family members. Aaron understandably was still a bit apprehensive around their adoptive father, but was steadily becoming more at ease around him and others. George offered a never-ending supply of brotherly support, which became almost paternalistic at times. Alexander at last felt comfortable using the label “friends” for Lafayette and Hercules. Even though their humor could be crude, he felt completely accepted when he was with them. John, however, belonged to an entirely new level above “friend”, though Alexander couldn’t quite find the correct label yet. It was odd; Alexander wrote for hours daily; he had a word for everything. Yet, the perfect description that would fit John Laurens escaped him. 

Fortunately, he would have more time to think of the perfect word to describe John. To much of his delight, Alexander discovered that all his friends would continue attending the same school next year, and he was able to join them once again. 

Satisfied for the time being, Alexander looked around his and Aaron’s shared bedroom. The walls – though plain – seemed so familiar and comfortable after the year he spent in them. The room actually began to feel like home. Smiling slightly, he pulled his suitcase out from under his bed and finally began to unpack.

###### 

_“Love doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints...”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter/year! It's the first fic I have ever written, so feedback is very welcome. Also, Wikipedia and the Hamilton Cast Album lyrics were my best friends writing this.
> 
> I was a bit worried I would focus too much on the "magical first kiss", so I got that out of the way REAL quick. Can you already see the cotton candy fluff coming out? ;D
> 
> Finally, since this story spans over 6 years, there will be 6 chapters. I get slightly annoyed when fics are left unfinished, so all the chapters are already written (and are around 10k words each). I will aim to upload a chapter every other day~
> 
> ((EDIT: 8/21/16 -- I removed some words from Alexander's argument with Seabury that may have come across as offensive. Since the argument mainly centers around religion, it is a touchy subject, and I should have examined my writing from all perspectives before posting. I'm truly sorry if anyone was insulted; this was not my intention, and was completely erroneous on my part.))


	2. 2011-2012

“Elizabeth Schuyler. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Schuyler?”

“My sister,” Angelica piped in next to Alexander. 

Alexander smiled kindly and took Eliza’s hand. Once the next song began, the two made their way across the dance floor. 

Sophomore year in high school had already begun and had progressed well. Alexander, though still the great procrastinator that he was, managed to make marvelous grades with his stellar writing. Aaron continued to participate in the Mock Trial Club with George, who was President of both the club and the school’s ASB. Alexander mostly occupied his classes with his friends: John Laurens, Lafayette, and Hercules Mulligan. However, another person had caught Alexander’s eye in one of his classes.

The student teacher in one of his periods was incredibly young; probably not much older than the students she taught. She had dark skin and black, curly hair that was usually pulled back in a high ponytail. The sharp features on her face and usually pursed lips made her look serious, but it wasn’t long before she broke into a smile or laugh. On the first day of the school year, her face lit up when she saw Alexander walk through the door with John. 

“Alexander!” she had exclaimed, causing him to stop in surprise. He didn’t know this person, did he? She did look sort of familiar, though… The switch finally went off in Alexander’s mind as he recalled the young woman. 

A year ago, he remembered helping her gather the papers she had dropped when a student tripped her after school. She had given him the same genuine smile back then as she was giving him now. “It is you!” she had rushed forward, extending a hand.

“Um…hello,” Alexander had said, shaking her hand. John snickered at the interaction behind him.

The young woman realized her enthusiastic behavior and toned it down. “Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Angelica Schuyler.”

“Alexander Hamilton,” he completed the introduction before realizing again that she already knew who he was. 

Angelica had stared at him with starlit eyes; it had been as if she were meeting a hero. “Just…thank you for standing up so many times last year,” she finally said. “It was amazing to watch.”

_She must be talking about that impromptu debate with Seabury,_ Alexander realized. While the debate/shouting match lasted only a couple minutes, the legacy of it lasted well into the school year. Students of every grade nicknamed the event “Farmer Refuted”, to account for the fact that Seabury’s family owned a bit of local farmland. Since the debate, Alexander had been viewed as an eloquent activist by some of his peers. Other peers and even some adults, however, viewed him only as an abrasive and annoying kid shouting for change. His polarizing attitude drove others against him. Soon, people began to confront Alexander and challenge his views publically. Each time, Alexander never failed to stand by his views and talk down his opponent – whether it was in shouting bouts, school message boards, or even in published documents. It certainly must have been entertaining to watch; Angelica must have been in the audience. 

As Angelica had continued to stare at him in excitement, Alexander tried to say nonchalantly, “Oh, those were nothing. There’s a million things I haven’t done. Just you wait!”

Angelica had giggled at his confidence. As the two boys at last entered the room, she explained that she was the student teacher for their class. She only graduated a couple years ago from Mt. Vernon High School, and had to be in a real classroom as part of her teaching certification. 

John had been left to sit alone at his desk while she and his friend talked in an excited frenzy for the next few minutes. It was an understatement to say that the two had hit it off immediately. Angelica, face bright and hands expressive, talked on and on about Alexander’s work she had been able to read the previous year. The attentive and quiet expression Alexander usually reserved for John was now trained on Angelica. John had silently scoffed at the two, but that didn’t stop Alexander and Angelica becoming closer as the year progressed. 

While John did have Alexander’s company all to himself in the other periods he shared with him, he lost his friend to the class with Angelica. In that hour, the two would pass notes and discuss current events during whatever free time they were given. This was much to the annoyance of John and the teacher, who almost always privately scolded Angelica for paying too much attention to one student. Regardless, Angelica and Alexander became close friends in a short span of time.

The high school’s winter dance approached, and Angelica had compelled Alexander to go. He, John, Lafayette, and Hercules all went to the dance together. Although it was the first school dance Alexander ever attended, even he could already tell it was quite mediocre. The winter-themed decorations were cheesy and music quality inside the school’s gym was shoddy. He could sense the teenage awkwardness emanating from the dance floor long before he ever stepped foot in the gym. 

Despite the mediocrity, Angelica dazzled the floor in a fashionable pink dress as one of the chaperones to the dance. In the middle of the night, she had tugged Alexander away from his group of friends.

“Where are you taking me?” he had asked as he followed her through the throng of students gracelessly attempting to dance. 

“I’m about to change your life,” she answered dramatically.

“Then by all means, lead the way.”

Angelica had brought him to a girl in a brilliant blue dress. She had been staring as Alexander approached, and her smile only grew bigger as he got closer. 

The girl was named Elizabeth Schuyler, though she preferred to go by Eliza, Alexander learned as they danced together. A slow dance song played, so the two slowed down their movements. Alexander gently held Eliza’s small hand in his and placed his right hand down on her waist. Eliza couldn’t seem to stop smiling, her bright white teeth and eyes sparkling under the spotlights.

“You look lovely,” Alexander complimented.

Eliza blushed slightly. “You look quite dapper yourself,” she laughed. He looked down at his own outfit. He couldn’t buy a suit in time, so he instead borrowed a pair of trousers and a white dress shirt from John. “It’s no wonder why my sister talks about you so much.” 

“Angelica talks about me, huh?” Alexander asked, chuckling. 

Eliza shook her head. “No, no, my other sister.” She pointed to a girl in a poofy, yellow dress nearby. The girl also had dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and was currently slow-dancing with John. “Her name is Peggy. She’s a freshman this year, but she never stops talking about…” Eliza let out an exaggerated dreamy sigh. “'Alexander Hamilton',” she laughed. “I think she may have a small crush on you!”

Alexander attempted to hide his surprise as he looked over at John and Peggy dancing. John made eye contact with him, and he tried to give a comforting expression to quell John’s uneasiness. Turning back to Eliza, he presented his most serious face. “You’d be surprised how many times I’ve heard that.”

The corners of Eliza’s mouth peeked up at his sarcasm. “I could hardly be surprised. You have made quite a reputation for yourself.”

_An obnoxious reputation,_ Alexander couldn’t help thinking. _But, arguably a righteous one._ He located his other friends on the dance floor. With no other partners available, Lafayette and Hercules were casually and comfortably dancing with each other. Lafayette’s tall form and dramatic movements paired well with Hercules’ more reserved stance. Alexander twirled Eliza around and glanced over again. The two boys’ dancing slowed to a halt as some other students approached them, appearing to be saying something. 

Lafayette’s wide grin evaporated, and he pushed his glasses up on his nose, a sign Alexander learned to be annoyance. One student who approached, his back turned away, became more animated and Lafayette responded in the same manner. Seeing the rising commotion, Angelica wove her way to the students and attempted to break up the confrontation. The boy shifted his anger to Angelica and she visibly flinched across the gym. 

Alexander looked to Eliza, who was also watching the interaction with curiosity. She gave a pained expression when her sister was hurt by the boy’s words. Wordlessly, Alexander squeezed Eliza’s hand, and they made their way over to the disturbance. 

“Who the fuck cares if we’re dancing together?” Hercules now challenged the opposing student. 

“Oui, it is not hurting anybody, correct?”

“I highly suggest you boys mind your own business,” Angelica pointedly concurred. 

The boy sighed in frustration and whipped around toward Angelica again. “Listen, dyke –” he cut off once he saw Alexander and Eliza coming up. With a grimace, Alexander recognized the boy to be Sam Seabury. Seabury masked his surprise with a look of triumph as he noticed Eliza’s hand in his. “A-ah! Even Alex got the memo. And he’s one of the gayest kids here!”

“Excuse me?” The students turned to the person who had just joined the group. George Washington, his eyebrows angled down and face a look of irritation. He stood next to Alexander, a good head taller than him. “It would be in your best interest to listen to Miss Schuyler,” he said with command, glaring eyes challenging anyone who dared to go against the order. At that, Seabury attempted to keep face while slowly backing away.

The other boy with Seabury, however, stepped forward one last time. “I’m sure it runs in the family,” he sneered up at George before turning around and following Seabury back into the crowd. 

George’s expression was kept stony, though his mouth was hard set in anger. “Everyone alright?” he asked around.

Everyone nodded, but Angelica’s eyes stung with unshed tears. Eliza reluctantly departed from Alexander so she and her sister could talk in private. Alexander stepped to comfort her as well, but George grabbed his elbow. 

“Alexander, you alright?” he asked, concern painted on his face.

“Yeah, George, I’m good.”

“Okay. Just don’t do anything…stupid. There’s a time and place, and it’s not here.”

Alexander felt a flash of irritation and he yanked his arm back. “Okay. Yeah. I’m good,” he repeated. George nodded once then went back through the mob of students. With a shake of his head, Alexander rejoined his group of friends and noticed John had come over.

“Yo, what was _that_ all about?” John inquired.

Lafayette sighed. “Just Seabury. Being a, a…”

“A pompous asshole,” Hercules finished.

“Oui, total. Et another kid; I think his name is Charles…Lee. They did not agree with Hercules et me dancing.”

John tightened his fists. _Not this again..._

“Hey! We can all rant about Seabury’s dickedness someplace else,” Alexander announced, attempting to subdue John’s rising sense of anger and bring the mood back up among his friends. “Do you guys want to get out of here?”

At this, the three brightened. “Yes! Lord, this dance has been terrible,” Hercules laughed. They made their way to the exit after Alexander said goodbye to George. John tried to look the other way when he said goodbye to Eliza as well, but her giggle during the interaction pierced through the noise of the dance. 

The four boys rode in Hercules’ car to the nearest fast-food restaurant that was still open. It was raining fairly hard, which usually caused Alexander to become visibly disturbed. Normally, John wouldn’t hesitate to lock arms with his friend, or run his hand along his back to comfort his fears, but that night he faltered. Alexander was left to silently suffer in his anxieties on his own for the car ride while John ran through his own worries. 

_What would Seabury do if he saw what Alexander and I did?_ He wrung his hands nervously. _It’s definitely more than just dancing…I’m sure he would not let it slide without saying something about it._

Finally, they reached the restaurant and piled out of the car. “Alexander, where is Aaron?” Lafayette asked once they got in a booth. 

“He stayed home,” Alexander answered, running a shaky hand over his damp hair. John felt a shot of guilt for not trying to comfort him in the face of the storm. “He said that school dances were stupid. Plus, he also said he doesn’t have a date to bring with him.”

“For real? Well, I heard he’s got a special someone on the side,” John piped in, using it as an excuse to lay a hand on Alexander’s shoulder. 

“Is that so?”

“What’s he trying to hide?” John joked, squeezing his friend’s shoulder, who seemed more at ease at the contact. 

The four boys laughed and talked into the night. The topic of Seabury’s awfulness never came up again, but everyone was happy to just spend time with one another. Hercules drove each of them home.

###### 

“Alexander!”

He turned around at the call of his name. John stopped beside him as well. School had just been released, and they were on their way to John’s house. Nathan Greene and Henry Knox jogged up to the two. “Glad we could find you!” Nathan exclaimed happily. “So, what do you say to our offer?”

Alexander blinked at the upperclassmen in confusion. “What offer?”

Now Nathan and Henry looked at each other in the same confused expression. “Our…offer for you to join our Mock Trial Club,” Henry answered slowly. “The deadline to join already passed, but we decided to make a special exception for you, just like we did last year. We told Aaron to pass on the information last week.”

“Aaron…he didn’t say anything to me.”

Nathan and Henry looked at him with disappointment. “Ah, well, in any case, you're welcome to join our mock trial team!” Nathan snapped out of his clouded expression and shoved a form to Alexander. “Just fill this out, and come by the room listed after school before the end of the week!”

“You’d make a really great addition,” Henry added. Nathan nodded in agreement enthusiastically. “We wanted to get you on our team after you had that debate with that kid last year. We need more passionate and eloquent people like you.”

Alexander smiled slightly at the praise. “I’ll definitely think about it,” he replied as he tucked the form into his pocket. The answer seemed to satisfy Nathan and Henry, who left with huge grins on their faces. Alexander and John continued to walk side-by-side. 

“Those were sure nice compliments,” John observed. 

“Yeah, they were,” Alexander agreed. He felt pride beginning to bubble up inside him.

“Do you think you’re gonna join the club?”

“I might…” Alexander paused. He wasn’t one to pass up opportunities that presented themselves so easily to him. But, if he were to join… “But if I were to join, that means we wouldn’t be able to hang out as often anymore.”

John’s face clouded in doubt for a moment. He covered it with a reassuring smile. “That’s okay! We can hang out during class and stuff. Also, the weekends are a thing,” he laughed. “I think it’s a good opportunity; you shouldn’t throw away your shot at making the team.”

“No, you’re right; I’m not throwing away my shot,” Alexander agreed. 

John looked at his friend with a slight sadness. In addition to the club being a good chance for Alexander to expand his writing and speaking talents, John also wanted him to join for another reason. A couple nights after the winter dance, John’s father came up to his room to speak with him. The conversation mirrored the one they had right before his father moved his family to Washington State from England.

“You’re spending too much time with that boy,” Henry Laurens had stated matter-of-factly.

“Do you mean Alexander?” his son feigned innocence. “He’s just a close friend. Y’see, he and I were both new to the school, so we had a lot in common. And, he doesn’t have a lot of friends yet, so he likes to come over here to study and work and –”

His father had put up a hand to cut him off. “Don’t make excuses,” he ordered. John noticeably shrunk. “Don’t make another…mistake, either,” he stood up to leave. “Remember, your mother would not have wanted you to practice such a lifestyle. Keep in mind you are a role model to your _brother_ as well, not just your sisters.” He paused, and said nearly inaudibly, “What’s left of them, anyways…”

“Yes, sir,” John had said quietly, fiddling with the stone bracelet around his wrist. 

“And, Jack.”

“Yes, sir?”

“It seems your hair needs another cut. It’s getting too long.”

“Yes, sir,” he had mumbled as his father left his room. Now, John stared at Alexander with the same sadness he had felt that night. Luckily, his friend didn’t notice and they spent the afternoon in John’s house, happily talking about absolutely nothing for hours. George picked up Alexander and drove him home. 

That evening when everyone had retired to their rooms, Alexander slid the form Nathan had given him earlier that day into Aaron’s line of sight. He was studying at a desk in their shared bedroom, but looked up at his pseudo-brother. 

“Nathan Greene and Henry Knox came to talk to me today,” Alexander stated, trying to keep his accusatory tone hidden. “They told me they gave you some message to pass onto me.” Aaron’s face remained difficult to read. “They also told me they gave you the same message last year. But if I remember correctly, you never did pass on any message.” Alexander crossed his arms. “Aaron, I’ve always considered you a friend.”

“I don’t see why that has to end.”

“You deliberately neglected to tell me of this opportunity!”

“I neglected to tell you because it wasn’t a fruitful opportunity!” Aaron rubbed his eyes with an abundance of exasperation. “I didn’t tell you because you didn’t seem interested,” he ended flatly. 

“Not interested??” Alexander threw up his hands. “You see how much I write! Why did you think I ‘wasn’t interested’?”

“It’s more than just writing, Alexander,” Aaron answered, ignoring his question altogether. “We have to study the courtroom; we have to know the rules front to back; we have to be calm and collected.”

“Are you saying I’m no—”

“—We have to think our actions through!” Aaron interjected, his voice rising. “We cannot be passionately spouting whatever we _feel_ is right. We have to carefully examine the facts and see from both perspectives so we can make an effective case.”

“I’ll have you know it was my passionate attitude that made Henry and Nathan approach me!” Alexander shot back. “And – I’m sorry, but did you just forget how we got here? You would still be stuck in that God-awful house if it weren’t for _me_!” Aaron’s cheeks grew hot. “Just because you try not to care about anything does not make you a better candidate than me!” 

“I swear, your pride will be the death of us all,” Aaron stood up to meet him. “Beware, it goeth before the fall!”

A knock outside their door prevented any explosive response from Alexander. George poked his head in. “You guys okay?”

Alexander backed away from Aaron and swiped his Mock Trial form off the desk. “Absolutely,” he answered coolly. “George, you’re president of the Mock Trial Club at school, correct?” George gave a curt nod and Alexander handed him his completed form. “Perfect. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

###### 

To Henry and Nathan’s utter delight, Alexander dove right into the Mock Trial Club immediately after officially becoming a member. They assigned their newest member heavy books and long documents to read about the rules and regulations of the courtroom. Alexander did not fail to prove his dedication and energy. He read everything they threw at him with an astounding hunger and determination, always coming back the next day with questions and comments about case scenarios. 

“This kid’s great,” Henry noted one day. 

“Probably the best I’ve seen,” Nathan agreed wholeheartedly. “We need to get him out to do some cases in the mock courtroom.”

“You mean as head lawyer?”

“As head lawyer.”

 

“John, guess what?” Alexander called his friend over the phone excitedly. It was Friday night, the day before their school’s Winter Break began. 

“What is it?” John responded in anticipation. He was at his house already, helping his younger sister, Martha, who was still in middle school, with her homework. His father was fixing up food in the kitchen behind him. 

“I was chosen to be head lawyer for our next case!” 

“Yo, that’s great news!” John exclaimed genuinely. He was witness to how hard Alexander had worked to be in that position. He never seemed to take any breaks, but clearly, it paid off well. “Hey, didn’t you say that your brother had that role before?”

Alexander felt a quick pang of guilt. “Yeah, he did. But Henry and Nathan want me to try it out this round and see how it goes! That does mean, though, I’ll have to spend a lot of time getting acquainted with the case.”

“Even more time than you already spend working on it,” John teased. His friend’s chuckle over the phone died out fast. 

A pause. “I miss you,” Alexander said quietly. 

John sucked in a breath and spun his head around to make sure his father didn’t overhear. Luckily, he hadn’t. “…same,” he replied neutrally. 

“Would you want to hang out this weekend?” Alexander asked. _There is nothing I would want more,_ John thought. “We haven’t done it in a while.”

“That sounds great! Where would you want to go?”

“I don’t know…we could just walk around and explore the city, if you want. Though, that may be slightly boring.”

“No, no, that’s fine,” John laughed. “I can meet you tomorrow. I’ll see you later!”

“Okay, see you". 

John hung up his cell and faced his father behind him. Before he could open his mouth, his father asked, “Was that Alexander?”

Smile fading, John looked down. “Yes, sir; it was.”

“You are planning to go out with him tomorrow?”

So he did overhear. “Yes, sir.”

“ _Alone?_ ”

“N-no!” John answered quickly in response to his father’s rising voice. His sister looked up at the increase of volume. “There will be other people as well. Two girls named Peggy and Eliza are joining us,” he lied, hoping the female names would appease his father. 

“’Peggy and Eliza’?” Henry Laurens repeated thoughtfully. “I do not believe I have met these friends of yours before. Could I meet them before you go?”

“Y-yes, sir, of course,” John replied. His father, satisfied, turned back to continue cooking while John quickly finished helping Martha.

That night, John pulled out his phone once his father’s bedroom door shut.  
_Hey, do you have Eliza Schuyler’s #?_ He texted to Alexander. 

A minute passed before a response. Alexander wrote,  
_Yeah, I do. Why tho? ___

_Do u think her and her sister Peggy would want to come with us tomorrow?_

_Ooh my dear Laurens, do you have a crush? ;)_

_Save it for later and answer the question LOL_

_Ok ok…maybe they’d want to come; I can text her._

_Great. Let me know what they say. Tell them to meet at my house with u as well; my dad wants to meet them._

_;) ;) ;) ;)_

Alexander finished sending his text and laid back down on his bed. _Does John really like Peggy?_ he wondered. The image of his friend awkwardly dancing with the girl at the winter dance made him laugh out loud, but that didn’t stop the sense of jealousy coursing through him. The entire point of planning to hang out with John was to, simply, hang out with John. Alexander missed the company of his friend he had received daily the previous year. He longed for the days in which they sat up in his room, doing nothing at all, but doing it _together_. He wanted the freedom to do whatever he liked with his friend, but since the dance, John became much more distant and reserved. 

Ironically, the only time he seemed to open up all year was behind closed doors. Earlier in the fall, John had been over at Alexander’s house. They were in the shared bedroom, watching shows on John’s laptop. The floor of the room proved to be too uncomfortable for the boys, so they crammed onto Alexander’s twin bed. Alexander sat against a wall the bed was next to, and John’s head rested on his chest, each boy watching the screen playing Parks and Recreation. 

Alexander smiled at the pleasant memory. It had been such a nice, lazy day, he remembered. That week, he had been bombarded with start-of-the-year projects that he and John had worked tirelessly to complete. With all the craziness finally done, they were at last taking a break – something Alexander rarely agreed to do. 

He remembered that the room had such a warm, yellow glow to it. His window was open, and he could hear the wind whistling and leaves crunching outside. The scene had been the epitome of autumn. The boy leaning against him matched the weather well with his tan sweater and fuzzy socks. Alexander couldn’t shake the idea out of his head that John looked absolutely beautiful to him that day. The way his expression was so light and full of joy from laughing at the show made him feel warmer inside. 

“Hey, thanks for letting me come over,” John had said, pausing an episode. He looked up at Alexander from his place on his chest. “It’s really fun to be with you.” 

“You think so?” Alexander smiled, suddenly overwhelmed by a familiar urge. Whenever he was in close proximity to someone, Alexander for whatever reason had a strange urge to kiss that person. It didn’t matter who it was; young, old, male, female, stranger, friend. Whomever it may be, the thought flit through Alexander’s mind: if he were to kiss this person, right then and there, what would they do? How would they react? It was an incredibly strange notion, Alexander could admit, but it came about without his input regardless. That day, however, the urge to kiss was overwhelmingly trained on John. Alexander had never once acted upon the urge before, but that day, he had been willing to try it. 

So, without any warning, Alexander had lowered his face to meet John’s in a kiss. All he remembered was seeing John’s eyes widen in surprise then in horror as the bedroom door clicked open. He shot up like a bullet as Aaron entered the room and sat down at his desk.

Mouth clamped shut, John hit the episode to play on the laptop and wouldn’t look Alexander in the eye for the rest of the afternoon. 

Alexander frowned at the sour end to the memory. John’s obvious embarrassment had in turn made him embarrassed for getting too close to his friend. Of all the people he felt compelled to kiss, John was truly the only possible receptor. After all, they had _already_ kissed before when John was comforting him during nasty storms. True, not particularly on the lips, but they _had_ kissed nonetheless. 

Though, Alexander now realized, they didn’t exactly talk about their actions afterwards. In the moment, with Alexander paralyzed in anxiety of the storm and (more often than not) in the arms of John, the kisses planted on Alexander just seemed like the right thing to do. In the moment on that fall afternoon, kissing John had felt like the right thing to do as well. The replay of John frantically pulling away when Aaron entered the room haunted Alexander’s mind and he turned over in frustration. 

_It was my fault; I was the one who made it awkward,_ he concluded. He’d have to be pretty naïve to not notice how uncomfortable his friend became at the mere mention of sexuality and preferences. _But everything we’ve done has been platonic…right? He just…does whatever he can to help me get through storms._ Even Alexander knew his argument was weak. _Well, he did want Peggy and Eliza to come with us,_ he reminded himself as he texted out the invitation to Eliza’s number. _That should also mean something._

After receiving Eliza’s excited confirmation, Alexander set his phone off for the night and settled in bed. Just a couple months earlier, he and John were in the exact same spot. The flash of horror in his eyes as Alexander leaned down to kiss him appeared once more in his mind. He located Aaron already asleep across the room. He hadn’t spoken to Alexander since he got the role as head lawyer in the Mock Trial Club. 

The room felt cold as Alexander tried to rid himself of the tainted memories and fall asleep. 

###### 

The next day, Angelica and the other Schuyler sisters picked up Alexander and headed over to John’s house. Angelica, the driver of the carpool, stayed in the car while introductions were made to John’s father. John all but nearly skipped Alexander’s introductions and dove right into showing – no, almost parading – Eliza and Peggy to his father. 

_He must really like Peggy,_ Alexander figured with a pang as John hardly acknowledged his presence. The neglect he felt didn’t last long, however. As soon as Angelica dropped the four teenagers off in the downtown area of the city, Eliza and Peggy were all over Alexander. 

Eliza, a sophomore as well, made her affections toward Alexander a bit slyer than her sister. Though, Peggy, a year younger than everyone else, latched onto Alexander like an overexcited fangirl. 

“Come on, I know the perfect place to go!” she exclaimed, locking arms with him and dragging him down the sidewalk. Laughing, Eliza followed her sister’s quick footsteps and John trailed a little further behind the group. 

The four approached a huge wall that had a mural of evergreen trees. A large section of the wall was painted black, and the words “Before I die…” were spray painted in one corner. As the teenagers stepped closer, Alexander noticed the other writing. The black paint acted as a chalk board, he realized. Several columns of the incomplete sentence, “Before I die I want to ________”, were painted in white along the wall. 

“What is this?” Alexander stared up in wonderment. 

Peggy dragged him over to the caption on the wall. “It’s an interactive work of art,” she explained. “People can leave their mark by writing what they want to do before they die!” 

Alexander studied the wall and read some of chalk markings people left: _Before I die I want to travel the world!/meet Oprah/SER MUY FELIZ._ He smiled at the notes. 

“When Angelica was in high school, she took us to this wall,” Eliza told him. “She wrote ‘Before I die I want to become a teacher’, and now look at her!” 

Peggy unlooped her arm from Alexander’s and picked up a piece of chalk from one of the buckets located on the wall. She found a blank spot on the wall and wrote _Before I die I want to hug and kiss Alexander!! _One eyebrow cocked up, she turned to the boy and playfully asked, “Want to cross something off my bucket list?” 

Eliza laughed loudly as Alexander blushed. “I wouldn’t want you to die with any regrets,” he replied coolly, hands in his coat’s pockets. Peggy squealed in delight and leapt toward him, quickly planting a kiss on Alexander’s cheek. 

“Peggy, you could at least hide it a _little_!” Eliza chided, but they were all laughing at her enthusiasm. John faked a chuckle and pulled his coat tighter around him. The weather was getting colder. He looked up at the grey sky and noticed a few stray snowflakes had begun to drift down. 

Eliza took the chalk from her sister and gave it to Alexander. “Here, why don’t you add something.” 

Alexander accepted the chalk and stepped forward, thinking. There were a million things he wanted to – had to do – before he died. He snuck a glance over at John, who had barely said anything since they arrived. Finally, he decided on a goal and wrote: _Before I die I want to see John Laurens’ art published_. He turned proudly back to his friend, who couldn’t help smiling at what he wrote. 

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Eliza cooed. “John, you like to draw?” 

“Y-yeah, a little,” John answered humbly. It was the first time he'd been acknowledged since they arrived. “Though Alexander, I can’t promise you I’ll be able to fulfill that goal before you die." 

“Nonsense!” Alexander proclaimed with confidence, resting one arm over his shoulders. “Ladies, our dear Laurens is too humble for his own good. His work is really quite amazing; I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s able to make something of it in the future.” 

John grinned at his friend’s compliments; the jealousy he had felt only moments earlier all but disappeared. “Um, look! It’s snowing,” he observed in false astonishment, diverting the conversation off himself. 

The other three looked up and too, noticed the white fluff falling down at a high rate. Peggy’s admiration shifted from Alexander to the snow, and she skipped around giddily; Eliza tried her best to follow. Alexander reluctantly removed his arm around John, but not before running his fingers through his curly hair. 

“We need to grow out our hair for this weather,” he joked. 

“You think that’ll make a difference?” 

“Yeah, look how red your ears are!” Alexander snickered, pinching John’s ear lightly. “Do you see how cold Eliza and Peggy are? No, you don’t,” he answered himself. “That’s because they have their long hair!” 

John laughed. “Infallible logic,” he commended as they rounded the corner to follow the sisters. “Fine. I’ll grow mine out if you do it too.” 

“Deal,” Alexander replied with assertion. 

_Paf!_

Something collided with his coat. He looked down and saw white powder. Eliza and Peggy stood a few feet in front of them, gleefully giggling at his bewilderment. “How’d you guys even make a snowball that fast?! It barely started snowi –” 

_Paf!_

Another snowball hit him, this time in his mouth. “Okay, that’s it,” he muttered with a mischievous grin. The streets in the downtown district were already being covered in a blanket of white. He and John began rolling up snowballs of their own to fight back. They chased the girls all over the empty sidewalks until both sides called a truce, leaning against a wall and panting from the high exertion. 

On account of the shorter winter days, the sun soon began to dip down, and Eliza called Angelica to pick them up. John politely turned down her offer to drive him home as well, opting to walk instead. Alexander also turned down the offer so he could walk with John. 

Walking side by side down the quiet street, Alexander breathed out a content sigh, his hot breath creating a mini-cloud in the cold air. “Thanks for coming out with me. It’s really fun to hang out with you again,” he said after a while. The words nearly paralleled the ones John had told him that lazy fall afternoon. He’d hoped John understood the reference, but he only nodded in response. Another couple minutes of silence went by. “I’m sorry I kind of took your date away,” he tried again. 

“Do you mean Peggy? You couldn’t have done anything to stop _that_ infatuation,” John chuckled. “But…my date? She wasn’t my date.” 

“Really? Then why did you want to invite them?” 

_Because I had to prove I wasn’t gay to my father_ , the thought sprang up, but John bit his tongue. “I thought you might’ve enjoyed their company,” he said instead. 

“Oh,” Alexander glanced away. “Well, they did make good company,” he agreed. The jealousy John had felt earlier that afternoon returned. 

“They’re really nice, right?” 

“Yeah, super friendly.” 

“And pretty, too?” 

“Yeah. Both of them are pretty cute.” 

“And Eliza. Do you like her?” 

Alexander paused. “She makes a good friend,” he answered, looking at his friend. John’s eyes were downcast; a hint of annoyance splayed on his face. “Why do you ask?” 

John shrugged. “It just seemed like you two were flirting a bit.” 

Dramatically, Alexander placed a hand over his chest and gasped. “My dear, dear Laurens, am I sensing a little bit of _jealousy_ coming from you?” He broke into a laugh as John tried to shoot him a glare with a straight face. “Don’t worry, my dear, I appear to do that with everyone. If you consider that flirting, then I might as well be courting Angelica Schuyler as well as half the school!” 

John breathed out in relief. “Hold on; you kissed Peggy today,” he accused. 

“Wrong! _She_ kissed me. Plus, it was on the cheek,” Alexander corrected. 

“Close enough,” John retorted quietly. Though, he was glad that his friend clarified his affections. They were getting close to his house. “Wait, you said that you flirt with everyone?” he asked as they turned the final corner. 

“Just about.” 

He paused to think about his wording. “Do…do you ever flirt with me?” 

“…sometimes,” Alexander admitted. He couldn’t tell if John’s red cheeks were only from the frosty air. “But, John, don’t forget…” he took a few wide paces to set him in front of the other. Turning around, he grabbed John’s shoulder to stop him from walking. John stared at him in shock as he brushed a snowflake off his cheek and kissed the spot where it had been. “I don’t kiss everybody,” Alexander finished. He laughed, “I’ll talk to you later!” before bounding back down the street to his home. John was left in the snow, his fingers touching his cheek in bewilderment and an odd sense of pleasure. 

###### 

For the rest of the winter break, John and his family traveled back to South Carolina to spend the holidays with his family members. Alexander spent most of his break in his room, pouring over the upcoming Mock Trial case. When the school days began again, much of his mental and physical power were concentrated on the case. Sam Seabury and the other kid he’d begun to hang out with, Charles Lee, continued to incessantly tease John and Alexander, but it never rose to the high levels as before. Eliza and Alexander began to spend more time together, and John tried not to feel left out. At least he, Lafayette, and Hercules still stuck together, even as the other two boys practiced sports after school. For the most part, the school year continued on as normal. Though, John spent a deplorable amount of time with Alexander.

From the combination of the Mock Trial, the mockings of Seabury and Lee, and the new friendship with Eliza, the first time John and Alexander were able to hang out again was during their school’s Spring Break. John’s father was working during the week, so John figured it was a great time for Alexander to come to his house and get his portrait drawn for real. 

The day was quite literally a breath of fresh air. The previous weeks had seen a lot of rain, but the Skagit River, fortunately, did not rise enough to flood. Today, the sun shone in victory of chasing the rain clouds away. It lit up John’s bedroom through his open window. 

Alexander tried to brush his hair out of his face as he got himself situated on a chair at John’s desk. Even when the cold weather had long passed by, he had been quite serious with his friend about growing out their hair. Now they were both in the awkward stage somewhere between short hair and long hair. John was only able to keep his hair longer by using his sisters’ hair clips to surreptitiously fasten long strands under others so his father would not force him to cut it. With his father gone, John now took out the many hidden clips and let his curls fall down. The increased weight of the longer curls made his hair fall a bit straighter, but they only reached the bottom of his ear.

Alexander laughed at the sight. “If someone ever needed a mascot for selling Spaghetti-O’s, you would be their man.”

John hurled a pillow at him and smirked as it collided with his face. “Says you! You look like an off-brand Kurt Cobain.”

“Ooh, Laurens, you’re getting salty, aren’t you! Don’t get too salty, though. You’ll ruin the Spaghetti-O’s you’re endorsing,” Alexander winked, throwing the pillow back. “How long were you holding onto that insult?”

“A while…” John admitted. “But to be fair, we hadn’t seen each other nearly enough for me to properly use it anytime sooner.”

“True,” Alexander agreed. He then used that as an opportunity to get his friend caught up on all the recent drama involved in the Mock Trial and in his classes. 

“Wait, Alexander,” John cut in after fifteen minutes. “I would really love to hear about your sibling disputes with Aaron, but we should at least make an effort to do this portrait. We tried all last year to do it, and it’s still not done!” 

His friend put up his hands in defeat. “You’re right, you’re right,” he sighed. He had been pacing the room as he was ranting so he made his way back to the chair. John sat on his bed with a sketchpad and pencil while his model positioned himself on the chair, head propped up on one hand, with a dramatic expression fixated on John. 

After getting the angle right, John began to sketch. The first few minutes passed by with ease; he was able to block in the basic shapes of his model. But then he started to really see Alexander in the way only an artist’s eye could. 

His long hair - though not yet reaching his shoulders - framed his face nicely; it made his face look thinner and sharper. His eyebrows were angled downward, which usually was interpreted as anger. Yet, Alexander’s expression was more one of determination. There was a fiery insistence in his eyes that caused John to shiver once he realized he was intently looking back at him. The unavoidable thoughts John attempted to drown out in Alexander’s endless talking were resurfacing, and he barely managed to keep the lid on them. He only tried to focus on getting the distinct curve of his nose right when Alexander licked his lips. 

He was starting to get fidgety again. Only ten minutes had passed, and he was already bursting to the seams to talk. After a couple more minutes of twitchiness, Alexander finally observed aloud, “You’re concentrating quite hard.” John scoffed and muttered a sarcastic retort. A few more minutes passed. “Why are you blushing?”

“I’m…not,” John answered carefully, limiting his eyes to only his sketchpad. He could hear the obvious amusement in Alexander’s tone, and wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction of looking up and having his blush spread even more. 

Alexander smirked at his response. “Because it’s not a bad thing,” he continued without prompting. “It brings out the freckles on your cheeks. And those really show all the different colors in your eyes. Then again, it does accentuate how far your ears are from your head…And also how weird your hair looks right now. But! I can’t blame you if you just naturally blush by looking at my be-a-utiful features.”

At this, John finally looked up to see Alexander had shifted his expression into an exaggerated duckface, staring at him with one eyebrow raised. He couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous expression and soon the two boys were left in a giggling fit, whatever tension in the room disappearing for the time being.

###### 

“What do you mean ‘it doesn’t mean anything’?!”

“It doesn’t. It’s not accurate, so that’s the end of it.”

“Yeah, but George, that’s _not_ the ‘end of it’! In fact, this is the tipping point! Why should Lee be able to smear your name like this, without any consequences?!”

“There’s no way to trace it back to him, Alexander. Let it be.”

“His name is written _all over_ this! Someone needs to teach him a lesson.”

“Don’t do a thing; the school’s history will prove him wrong.”

“But Geor –”

“We have just a few months left. _Let’s move along_ ,” George commanded with finality and marched out of the kitchen, leaving Alexander alone, a flyer clutched in his hand. 

 

“Did you see this??” Alexander slapped down the flyer on the table in the café. It had been folded and crumpled several times over in anger and anxiety, so he had to flatten it out for John to see. 

His friend glanced at it quickly, and almost choked on his coffee. “Yes, of course! Everyone has.”

The flyer had a low quality picture of George printed, with a fake pressed stamp that read “CHEATER” over his face. The bullet points on the flyer accused him of embezzling a portion of the school’s ASB club funds to pay for sexual favors of other male students. It had been anonymously posted all over the school early Friday morning, leaving students to interpret the “information” for themselves over the weekend. 

“This is absolutely insane,” Alexander muttered, crumpling the flyer again once more. “The thing is, none of this is even remotely true! George checked the club fund yesterday; all the money has been accounted for and _none_ of it is missing. There’s also absolutely _no proof_ George paid other students! And he has a thousand alibies! Before school, he meets with ASB. After school, he meets for Mock Trial. I’m pretty sure the guy never misses a single class period! Half the time he’s home, he’s just alone working in his room! But now, he’s under so much scrutiny and monitoring because of this stupid, fraudulent hoax!!” A couple patrons inside the café turned to look at the boys from his rising volume. 

John leaned in to be quieter. “Any idea who did it?”

“Who d’you think?” Alexander scoffed. “There’s only two people in that school who seem to have a vendetta against us: Seabury and Charles Lee. Except Seabury’s kind of a coward. That only leaves Lee, right?”

“Figures,” John shook his head, curls swinging. “It seems like those two have been wanting to pick a fight for some time now. Someone oughta hold them to it.”

Alexander ran his hand through his hair, which was already getting pretty long. “Trust me, I would…but George already explicitly prohibited me from doing anything. I can’t disobey direct orders, y’know?” he let out a fake laugh. 

A few moments of silence passed. Alexander nervously fiddled with a bandaid on his hand while John carefully formulated a plan in his mind. “Then I’ll do it,” he stated flatly.

“Do what?”

“ _I’ll_ show these two there are consequences,” John said slowly, becoming more confident with each word. He leaned forward and said with sincerity, “Alexander; you’re the closest friend I’ve got. Please. I’ve been wanting to punch one of ‘em since Day 1. If they admit to doing it, I can finally have a shot crossing that off my To-Do List.”

Alexander stared at his friend in amazement. Yes, John had anger problems, but he had never seen him openly gunning for a fight yet. Yet, here he was with a harsh glint of determination in his eyes. The fire he saw ignited his own righteous flame within. He grabbed the back of John’s neck and looked him back in the eye with the same resolve. “Laurens, do not throw away your shot.”

 

The fight was scheduled after school the next day. John and Alexander had tracked down Charles Lee early in the day, and confronted him about his remarks against George. He unabashedly admitted to printing the flyers, claiming that “people needed to be wary of the entire Washington family”. He also wholeheartedly agreed to the fight, but was disappointed in not being able to fight neither Alexander nor George himself. 

“You can’t even pick your own fight, Alex?” he snickered once they told him he would be fighting John. “You need your boyfriend to stand up for you?”

John cut into whatever insult Alexander was beginning to say. “ _I_ wanted to step in. Plus, it wouldn’t be fair to go two against one.” Lee scoffed. “So, here’s the deal: 3:00, down the block behind the field. No security; no teachers; no cameras.”

Lee looked John up and down. He felt raw under his dissecting eyes, but forced himself not to flinch. “And what would stop me from completely wasting you?”

“I would be there,” Alexander stepped forward. “I would stop it if things got out of hand.”

Another scoff. “ _You_? Isn’t that a little biased, then?”

“Well, no. Not all of us are complete assholes,” Alexander faked a pleasant smile. 

Lee rolled his eyes and began walking away. “Great, 3:00. Don’t be late.” 

John at last let out the breath he had been holding in. Alexander, still glaring at Lee as he left, didn’t notice. 

 

The time rolled around quickly. John and Alexander stayed silent as they walked toward their destination. Dark storm clouds had begun to gather overhead; Alexander kept his eyes trained down on the ground to avoid acknowledging them. John transferred his nervousness of the fight into indignation at Lee. He grit his teeth and tried to keep his explosion under wraps until the actual fight. They were nearing the field where Lee was already waiting for them.

“Alexander.” Alexander whipped around at the sound of his name, a little twitchy in anticipation. Aaron was walking quickly up to them. “What are you doing?”

“The Hell?! Were you following us from school?”

“What are you doing?” Aaron repeated, looking between John’s face engulfed in anger, and Alexander, who was quickly becoming so as well. “I had a bad feeling about this. You never go this way,” he swallowed. This was the most they’d spoken in a while. “Now, _what are you doing_?”

John answered for him. Pointing to Lee standing near the field, he muttered with determination, “I’m going to kick his ass.”

The two continued on their path, but Aaron kept up. “Can’t we both agree that school fights are dumb and immature?” he pleaded.

Alexander, face now clouded with annoyance, answered without skipping a beat, “Sure. But Lee has to answer for his words, Burr.”

“With violence? We both know that’s absurd.”

“Hang on; how many times have we been abused because Lee was narrow-minded and slanderous?” Alexander was yelling now.

They had arrived. John and Lee faced each other with scowls. Aaron took half a step back in shock. “Okay, so we’re doing this…” he mumbled. 

Alexander rolled his eyes and shoved Aaron toward Lee. “If you’re gonna stay, you can at least make sure John doesn’t kill him. Apparently I’m too biased to stop that.” Aaron opened his mouth to argue, but quickly closed it again. Alexander looked around them. The street was empty. Rain had begun to fall and he stiffened up. “Go,” he commanded. 

The word was barely out of his mouth before Lee lunged at John. John narrowly missed the punch, but was knocked down nonetheless. On top of his chest, Lee hit him squarely in the jaw and John saw stars. Aaron instinctively stepped forward to help him up, but Alexander gripped his shoulder to keep him back. The fight was far from over. 

The familiar copper taste in John’s mouth revved him into action. Before Lee could land another punch, John kicked him off and hit him in the chest. He seemed to absorb the blow and grabbed John’s arm, twisting him until John was back on the ground, breath knocked out of him. 

John had experience fighting only because he had been in so many school fights before. Lee, however, appeared to have some training, which did make surprising him a bit more difficult. His breath was again knocked out by a punch to his stomach. 

After a quick breath, John feigned an attack on Lee’s legs. Lee instinctively blocked his legs, and John took the opportunity to hit his jaw, the impact splitting the skin of his knuckles. Lee staggered back in surprise. John quickly got to his feet. Summoning all the repressed rage and hatred present in his body, John punched Lee squarely in the face with his already bloody fist. The impact stung his hand wildly and a loud grunt from Lee sounded. He hit the ground hard, groaning. John advanced, but Aaron used an arm to push him back. 

“That’s enough!” he cried, looking to the other moderator, who was making his way to the boy on the ground. “Alexander!”

“Lee, do you yield?!” Alexander almost shouted. Lee, eyes scrunched in pain, was holding his nose, which was bleeding quite a bit. 

Aaron dragged him away from him. “He may’ve broken his nose; _yes he yields_!!”

“I’m satisfied!” John concurred behind him. He was trying to stop his lip from bleeding. 

“Yo, we gotta clear the field,” Aaron looked around nervously. He helped Lee stand up, who spat and pushed him away. 

Even with his heart pounding, Alexander couldn’t help feeling a bud of pride blossom within him. “Go! We won!” he shouted at Lee, hugging John quickly in relief. John’s muscles tightened at the embrace, but was grateful for the victory. Over his shoulder, however, he saw a familiar car round a corner and park. George Washington exited the car and took long strides toward them. “Here comes George,” he muttered dumbly. 

“This should be fun,” Aaron agreed sarcastically. Lee finally got his nose bleed under control.

“What is the meaning of this?!” George bellowed as he got closer. He looked from boy to boy and shook his head in frustration and disappointment. “Aaron, make sure Charles gets home safely.”

“Okay,” Aaron complied, picking up Lee’s dropped backpack. Lee began to walk down the street and he followed close behind. George stopped them one last time. 

“Lee, you will never agree with me, but believe me, these boys don’t speak for me,” he indicated toward Alexander and John; Alexander felt a slight pain at the words. Lee rolled his eyes and continued staggering down the street with Aaron. George now turned back to the two boys. Alexander’s blood ran cold at his expression; he had never seen George so angry before. “Get in the car,” he growled, barely audible. The two boys cooperated immediately. George waited outside for Aaron to return while they sat, cramped in the backseat of George’s car. 

John’s hands were shaking. The adrenaline rush he’d felt only moments before was all but gone, leaving him almost cold. Alexander placed his hands over John’s. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

John forced a smile, which only served to reopen the wound on his lips. “Yeah; totally,” he paused, “I didn’t break Lee’s nose, though. I…I know what it feels like, and that just wasn’t it. It just looks bad, but I didn’t get him at the right angle.” He moved to scratch his neck and whimpered at the aching pain in his torso and jaw. 

For the first time, Alexander really looked at his friend and realized how many blows he had taken. John’s lip was swollen, and was still bleeding. His jaw was beginning to leave a dark bruise, and torso obviously in much pain. His knuckles were left bloody and chapped. “Oh, John –” he began, but was cut off by George and Aaron getting into the car. They buckled themselves in and George silently drove away as the rain continued to pour down. 

The tension in the car was palpable. George dropped John off at his house and silently drove home. The steady rain and whatever awaited Alexander back at the house made his heart rate increase. 

After what seemed like an eternity, they arrived home. George parked and without glancing back, commanded, “Alexander. Meet me inside.”

Alexander gulped down his anxiety and followed George inside the empty house. He’d barely set his bag down before George whipped around in a burst of released anger. 

“Son –”

“Don’t call me son,” Alexander warned, matching his rage.

George dismissed it and stepped closer. “This year is hard enough without you fighting.”

“Lee called you out. We called his bluff.”

“This solves nothing! You aggravate everyone in the school.”

“You’re absolutely right. John should’ve socked him in the mouth; that would’ve shut him up.”

“Son –”

“I’m not your son.”

“Watch your tone; I am not a maiden in need of defending. I am grown-–”

“Charles Lee, Sam Seabury; these kids take your name and they rake it through the mud,” Alexander growled. They were circling each other now.

“ _Our_ name’s been through a lot; I can take it.”

“Well, I _don’t_ have your name. I don’t have your titles. I don’t have your family. But, if you –”

“No –”

“If you gave me a chance to stand up for what I think is right, I could build my _own_ reputation even after the school year.”

“Or you could try, then get hurt and run again, and we need you here.”

“I am more than willing to try –”

“Aaron needs you here, son, I need you here –”

“ _Call me son one more time_!” Alexander stepped forward and gripped George’s collar. His shout echoed throughout the cold, empty house. George silently glared down at him, unflinching. A few moments of high tension in silence passed, the only sound in his ears the fast pace of his heart beat.

“Just go, Alexander,” George drew the words out slowly, breaking the tension. Alexander’s grip steadily loosened and he stared, wide-eyed filling with hurt.

“George –”

“Just. Go.”

Tears filling his vision, Alexander dashed out of the house and into the rain. He kept running and running and running, the drops falling on his face becoming congruent with his slipping tears. He couldn’t stop running; couldn’t stop breathing. Panting, gasping for breath, he put his hands over his ears to silence the screams he couldn’t get out of his head. The wind howling past, the indifferent clouds continuing to cry, the sound of wood splitting pounded his brain and once again his life was being ripped out from under him. He’d been _stupid!_ He’d been so stupid to believe this time would be different! He’d been so stupid to think he was wanted; was _loved_ for even a moment! He’d been _stupid – so, so, stupid-–_

A strong arm wrapped around his chest and he fell to the wet cement. Shaking from the exertion and the low temperature, he looked up at the figure above him. It was Aaron. He helped him up to his feet. 

“Alexander, we’ve done enough running,” he panted. Alexander just stared at him in shock. “Come on, let’s get out of the rain,” Aaron continued softly, brushing some strands of wet hair out of his face. 

Alexander looked frantically around them as they walked. Everything was dull and grey and wet; it all looked the same; he couldn’t recognize anything. His breathing quickened, but Aaron steadily navigated them through the streets until they reached their home at last. 

Augustine and Mary Ball Washington had already returned home from work and were anxiously awaiting Alexander and Aaron’s return. George enveloped both of them in a giant hug when they passed through the door. An apology began spilling from his mouth, but Aaron directed Akexander to go take a shower first and he had no choice but to comply. 

Finally, after the hot water finished scalding his skin, Alexander sat down alone in the bathroom and went through the several missed messages and calls on his phone. Almost all of the messages came from George, who profusely apologized again and again for what he’d yelled. One was a voice mail message from John. He pressed his phone against his ear and played it.

_“Hey! I noticed that it was getting stormy. I won’t be able to call you tonight, so here’s a little recording of me doing our exercise to help you get through it,”_ Alexander smiled as the message played. He heard John clear his throat over the speaker. _“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf…”_ John went through the entire counting exercise they had created last year, and Alexander found himself quietly repeating it, his nerves finally calming. The message ended with the exercise, and Alexander saved it for later uses. He rubbed his face and stood up, finally ready to come out of the bathroom.

###### 

_“Hamilton faces an uphill climb. He has something to prove; he has nothing to lose…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, the plot and character development thickens! Henry Laurens' disapproval of John will become a major theme, as you'll soon see. Also, keep that message on Alexander's voicemail in mind. It will come into play later
> 
> The Before I Die Wall in Mount Vernon, Washington is actually a real place! It's pretty cool, though, it was built in 2013, not 2011/2012, but we'll just forget that minor inconsistency... ;3;


	3. 2012-2013

It was August; time for George to move out of the house to attend college. He and Alexander managed to make up with one another over the summer. Alexander, too brash and focused on his own pride, had completely misinterpreted George’s efforts to protect him and Aaron, like any big brother would. After a few days of talking it over, Alexander’s relationship with both his brothers began to stitch back together. The short amount of time George had left in Washington State pressured Alexander to make up with him faster. Since he still lived with Aaron, their relationship took longer to mend. There were still hints of resentment, and by all accounts, the two boys still rivaled one another, but it proceeded more as a sibling rivalry after the night of the fight. 

Also after the fight between John and Lee, neither Lee nor Seabury him or Alexander again. Alexander couldn’t help feeling extremely proud of his friend (who covered up his darkening bruises from the fight with ample portions of his sisters’ makeup) for having single-handedly defeated their abuser. The two boys didn’t have much time to celebrate, however. After school was released for the summer, John and his family traveled back to South Carolina to visit family. The missing presence of his friend was like a gaping hole in Alexander's life; he was grateful he had to lose John for only a couple months.

Now, it was August; the time when Alexander would once again gain the company of his best friend, but also lose his adopted older brother to college. It was a bittersweet time to say the least.

They had decided to say their final goodbyes before George got on his flight in the airport. Over the summer, they had all been mentally preparing themselves for the departure, with the help of George teaching them how to say goodbye. Now that the moment finally arrived, however, they couldn’t quite anticipate their sadness.

“Well, I guess this is it,” George smiled sadly. The intercom over the airport PA system called for the final passengers to board the plane. He shouldered his bag and stepped forward to hug his parents goodbye. He and Aaron shared a quick hug before he turned to Alexander. “Alexander,” he straightened his back and extended a hand.

“George,” he responded with a smile, taking the hand. George laughed and used the handshake to pull him closer into a hug. 

“I’m going to miss you,” he said with a sigh and stepped back. Looking at his family one last time, he mustered another smile. “I’ll miss all of you. Talk to you on the other side!” he called, stepping toward the terminal.

Alexander, Aaron, and their adopted parents stayed to watch George’s plane take off and disappear in the distance. Mary Ball Washington already had tears shining in her eyes. Alexander, too, couldn’t help but feel like a part of the home he and Aaron had been graced with their new family was gone. Aaron, perhaps, was the most affected. 

For the past 2 years, George and Aaron had been almost inseparable, and for good reason. Since the incidents with his and Alexander’s foster father back in their last foster house, Aaron couldn’t stand being alone. He had tried to become independent when they first moved to Mt. Vernon, but each time he was by himself, he was constantly plagued with anxiety and paranoia. He would look over his shoulders an excessive number of times walking alone, and would purposefully stay silent and shy away from other students in hallways, on edge whenever they got too close. Even when alone in a bathroom or bedroom, he would lock the door and compulsively check to see if it was still locked every so often. Being with George during times in which Aaron felt most vulnerable had helped a lot.

George had become the sturdy, trustworthy rock Aaron needed in his life. With the company of his older brother, he finally started to become more comfortable around other people and himself when he was alone. However, now that he had gone to college, Aaron worried he might slip back down into his pit of depression and anxiety. He hoped Alexander wouldn’t notice any too big of changes he would exhibit after George left. _That kid is a powder keg about to explode,_ he realized whenever he ran his mouth in defense of something he was passionate for. He certainly didn’t want to be the one to light the fuse with his changed behavior.

Fortunately, even with George off to college, Aaron was not completely alone. He did have one other person to support him in his troubled times. Her name was Theodosia. She went to another school out of town, but she and Aaron became attached very quickly when they met. They were fast to be in a relationship, though he tried to keep it quiet at the time, as she was still in the process of leaving her boyfriend at the time. Theodosia’s now-ex-boyfriend moved to Georgia, which made the breakup easier. Now, she and Aaron could be together without secrecy, and it was her who Aaron called or met with whenever he felt too anxious to be alone. 

If the past few years were any indication of how crazy and unpredictable their lives could be, then Aaron couldn’t imagine what the future might hold. He took one last look at the plane fading into the distance before following the rest of his family out of the airport.

###### 

_When are u coming back?_

_Tomorrow  
We’re leaving for our flight tonight_

_You’d better not have a gross tan  
SC is disgustingly sunny_

_LOL can’t promise u that  
Alexander u better not be paler now than u were in June!_

_…_

_…  
How many times did u go outside this summer?_

_…_

_Dammit Alexander._

_;) See you tomorrow!_

_See you!_

John finished sending his last text then quickly turned his phone off. His father appeared in the doorway. “Jack, have you finished packing?” John nodded and his father looked between his son and the phone he held. Miraculously, he only tightened his lips and walked back out of the room. John let out a breath. He had been so nervous being with his family so long over the summer. He had expected his father to force him to cut his now-long hair, or to incessantly nag him about talking to his friend. However, for whatever reason, Henry Laurens had all but stopped nagging his son to cut his hair. John suspected it was because his sisters liked to play with it too much (the braids and bows were a small price to pay if it got his father off his back). Much more miraculously, Henry Laurens also reduced his vocal disapproval of Alexander. 

Ah, Alexander…

There was the thought that John’s mind always seemed to travel back to whenever possible; his trip to South Carolina only served to increase such thoughts in his friend's absence. Compared to Lafayette and Hercules, Alexander entered his mind much more often than was probably normal. In addition, his attitude toward him had a much more different chemistry than when he thought about his other friends.

There was no doubt that Alexander was his best friend, though in the few months he spent away from him, he began to wonder if he was something...more to John. While in South Carolina, John found himself longing for his company immensely. Sure, they talked over the phone often, but it was hard feeling the same closeness with each other when they were literally on opposite sides of the country. John yearned to talk to Alexander in person; to hear him become impassioned in the moment over something he believed in; to see his face light up in joy or surprise when he said something witty; to feel his fingers running through his hair or place comfortingly in his own hand…

It was precisely thoughts like that that led John to believe that his relationship with his best friend was something more than _just_ friendship. 

He shook his head hard to clear the thoughts piling up. It was something he did increasingly more often as well. No matter how hard he tried, he could not shake away his thoughts and inexplicable feelings toward his friend. Their relationship was hard to specifically define, but this was definitely not the place to do so. It was hard to imagine South Carolina being accepting of any sexuality deviating from ‘straight’. 

Especially with family in the state, John felt the need to suppress his true nature. He purposefully chose more casual clothes to wear; he tried to talk in a more monotone and unenthusiastic voice (when he _was_ forced to talk); he consciously diverted his eyes from other boys he saw on the street. The entire summer vacation, it felt like John was lying to himself and to his relatives. He felt dirty covering who he really was , as if who he really was was something that needed to be hidden. 

He was sick of it. He was so damn sick and tired of constantly trying to be someone he felt his family wanted him to be. _Goddammit…_

He _was_ gay, wasn’t he?

Sighing deeply, he rubbed his eyes with one hand. _Fuck...I am, aren’t I?_ It was the only explanation that made sense. Why he’d felt so uninterested in girls even when boys his age already bragged about kissing, touching, or having sex with the opposite gender. Why he’d only developed such complicated feelings for other boys. Why he’d developed such complicated feelings for Alexander. 

Ah, Alexander…

The boy returned to his mind once again and he quickly shook him back out. _This is not the time; definitely, DEFINITELY not the place_ , John stood up in frustration and dragged his suitcase downstairs to take to the airport. He was in the middle of his relatives’ home - in the middle of _South Carolina_ for God’s sake. He was almost completely positive none of his family would be any more interested than completely outraged about his little self-discovery. He would be shunned - burned at the stake and exiled - for coming out! His father already moved their family from England to Washington State when he was becoming suspicious of his son’s odd closeness with a boy named Francis Kinloch; what would he do if he ever unearthed his relationship with Alexander?

So, for now, John just had to keep quiet about his realization, and about any romantic feelings that may or may not have developed over Alexander; until...who knows. Probably until he or his father died. John could wait until then, right? After all, he had already been through the process of losing one parent. His smirk at the dark humor quickly turned into a scowl.

It had been so long since he had thought of his mother. It had been several years since her passing, but he couldn’t help dwelling on her in his quiet moments. It had been difficult to mourn at the time, though. Henry Laurens moved John and his siblings to England half a year after the funeral. He suspected it was his father’s way of trying to start their lives over, but it just created a hard mix of emotions and new experiences that most likely stunted his self-discovery and growth. 

From his father’s overreaction to even being suspicious that his son was anything but straight, John wondered how his mother would react. _Would_ she _be accepting?_ he pondered. _Would she somehow be able to change father’s perspective? And what would she say about Alexander?_

 _Ah, Alexand --_

Nope. No. No; John was going to stop that train of thought right now. He could mull over their exact relationship status when he was out of highly conservative state and even higher conservative family. 

He located some of his younger siblings sitting around a table in one of the house’s rooms. Joining them, he finally managed to get the complex thoughts out of his mind for the time being.

###### 

The year without George was surprisingly different for Alexander. He and Aaron had both gotten their driver’s permit over the summer, and took turns driving their brother’s old car home. Since the scare at the end of last year, Aaron seemed to accept Alexander being a lawyer in the Mock Trial Club along beside himself. He figured there were bigger things in life to worry about, and he couldn’t risk losing Alexander over his own pettiness. Apparently one thing in his life to worry about was the end of the world.

“It’s 2012, Aaron; the apocalypse is supposed to be coming in a few months,” Alexander annoyingly reminded him with a smirk. 

Aaron just rolled his eyes at the claim. “Need I remind you again that our calendar ends every year?! We don’t think the world is ending because of that, so why should we now?”

The other boy shrugged. “You’re right...though, Donald Trump did announce that he would be running for the presidency early this election season. The world would certainly be ending if he actually stuck through to campaign,” he laughed. 

Aaron scoffed at the notion. “Yeah right; he has a snowflake’s chance in Hell to being the Republican nominee. That would never happen.” ((*looks into an imaginary camera like on The Office*))

 

It was already well into the second quarter of school. Alexander and John had purposefully registered for the same courses last year, so they had much of the same classes together. Alexander was glad that this year’s classes would at last meet the minimum physical education requirement in order to graduate. He had nothing against working out, but the requirement did act as an inconvenience to doing more academic (and according to himself, more important) work. In addition, he was a bit out of shape, which might contribute to his hatred of gym. At least his friends were forced to suffer with him as well.

Hercules Mulligan had tried out for the school’s football team when he was a freshman, and had made the C-Team then. This meant he was part of the team, but not to the highest Varsity level. With the rest of his friend’s support, he decided to take Weight Training classes for the past 3 years of high school. The rigorous courses paid off extremely well, and soon Hercules was - as the athletic students would say - _swol_. Hercules made the football Varsity team with ease his junior year. Yet, he still chose to improve his strength and form every day by weight training in his physical education class.

Lafayette, too, took his gym class completely by choice. When Hercules made the school’s football C-Team a couple years ago, he joined the school’s cheer team so that he could support him during games. To much of the group’s surprise, Lafayette was shockingly nimble and comfortable dancing in public. He made the cheer Varsity team his first year of high school, and despite the harassment from being the only male on the team, has continued to dance with them ever since. Like Hercules, he chose to take his gym class to stay fit during the cheer team’s off-seasons.

Finally, John. John was also in the same gym class as Alexander. For the last couple years, in fact, the two boys had been in the same gym class with one another. This meant that they were also in the same locker room before and after each class. As much as John tried to dispel the idea from his mind, he found that the highlight of his days were usually being able to be with Alexander in the locker room. John knew how honestly creepy that pleasure was, but he couldn’t help enjoying the sight of his friend changing clothes. Because – as much as he tried not to stare – he would be partially exposed, and it felt like John was receiving a special opportunity to witness something no one else could.

As far as John could tell, Alexander opened up to him alone. Even with Eliza, he noticed Alexander would always put on a mask of snarky intellect. It seemed an emotional wall would build up during each of his friend’s interactions. Yet, when they finally had a chance to talk alone, John felt the wall disappear. The very atmosphere around them would change as Alexander laid his opinions and emotions bare before him. John felt like the same thing physically occurred in the locker room when they undressed.

He was almost jealous of how comfortable Alexander was in his own body. He seemed to have absolutely no problem changing in and out of his gym clothes. John, on the other hand, had an abundance of self-consciousness and wouldn’t dare look at anyone in the eye as he changed. The only time he was forced to make interactions while he dressed was at the end of last year, in the week following his fight with Lee.

The first few days after the fight were complete Hell. He could hardly move his neck or his entire upper body without his muscles and aching bruised skin screaming in protest. Therefore, in the locker room, it was nearly impossible for him to change into his gym clothes without the help of his friend. Alexander would have to carefully slip his school shirt up and over his head, and his gym shirt on. After the class ended, he had to repeat the process again in reverse.

In other words, twice a day for an entire week, Alexander would undress John. Each time, John fought the urge to be embarrassed or even worse: to enjoy the entire process. But, each time, his cheeks would exhibit a flaming red as he felt Alexander’s hands so carefully and gently pull up his shirt. Sometimes during the process, Alexander would have to lay one hand flat on John’s bare torso. In those moments, John prayed he wouldn’t explode – from embarrassment, he had assumed at the time. Now, however, he wondered if it was something else.

In the whole mix of odd things that happened at that time, the oddest thing John noticed was that his friend would rarely speak during the process. For someone who never seemed to shut up, and who abundantly flirts with everyone, Alexander would be oddly silent when helping him in the locker room . John just figured he was embarrassed about the whole thing as well, since it was difficult for him to make eye contact alone with his friend. And, (though he was certainly only seeing things) a faint hue of red would always look to be present on his cheeks. With the week-long experience becoming more and more distant, it was hard for John to recall what exactly he had seen at the time.

He did, however, recall quite clearly one incident that happened at the end of the week. Because of John’s self-consciousness, the boys always chose lockers in the back corner of the room, where no other student usually passed by. At the end of the week, Alexander had just finished pulling John’s gym shirt on when a shoe flew through the air and hit him in the back of his head. The student who threw it spit a slew of insults at them that John only wished he couldn’t remember. Alexander was the lone force stopping him from charging at the boy. At the end of the class, John declined his friend’s help and silently winced through the pain to dress himself.

Now, the two boys had the same gym class again. In the conscious presence of the other students, John made it his solitary goal to not stare or observe his friend changing. He hoped the other students would respond accordingly to his apparent disinterest in Alexander, but they were still relentless in their taunts. At least by his junior year of high school, both boys were used to the bullying.

Their other classes together were not as bad an environment. Much to John’s hidden displeasure, Alexander had a couple classes with Eliza Schuyler. They continued to latch onto one another and he felt like the third wheel whenever they worked together in class. It was also the final year Angelica Schuyler had to work as a student teacher before she moved onto the next stage of her teaching certification. Unfortunately, she was not working in any class that had John nor Alexander in. Despite this, she went out of her way to find them after school one day.

It was December 6, 2012. Angelica and Eliza caught the two boys as they were leaving their final class for the day. Angelica clutched her phone in her hand and both sisters had giant grins on their faces. “Alexander! John!” Eliza nearly jumped on them, grabbing Alexander’s arm in excitement. “Guess what just happened today!”

Alexander laughed, comfortingly laying his hand over Eliza’s on his arm. “What is it?”

“You know that gay marriage referendum that’s been going on?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we just got the results,” Eliza turned to smile at her sister. 

Angelica’s grin got wider. She rose her arms in victory and other students in the hall turned to look at them in surprise as she exclaimed, “As of today, gay marriage is legalized in Washington State!!”

The boys’ faces matched the sisters’ enthusiasm and excitement. “That’s amazing!” John smiled, his expression lit with joy. Alexander agreed beside him and the girls giggled in exuberant happiness. 

Angelica’s teeth shone brightly as she couldn’t stop smiling; small beads of tears sitting in the corners of her eyes. “My other half and I are so excited! I think we’re going to get married this weekend; it’s really soon; but not too soon right??” The words tumbled out in a rush. 

Eliza patted her sister’s arm. “It’s not too soon; you guys were ready like two years ago!”

“Yeah, I guess we were just waiting for something like this to happen!” she laughed.

“And you two were already planning on a court marriage.”

“And we were already planning that,” Angelica repeated, agreeing. 

Alexander was still stuck on the first part of the girls’ excited babbling. “Wait, I’m sorry,” he cut in. “Ms. Schuyler, you’re marrying your ‘other half’? I didn’t know you had a partner.”

Angelica turned slightly red. “Yeah...I try to keep it a bit quiet, though,” she looked around them. “You never know who might be listening, or what their stance is.” Alexander gave her an empathetic look. She quickly pulled up a photo on her phone of them standing together. “ANYWAYS, that’s her!”

“She’s really great,” Eliza piped in, looking at the photo. “They’ve been waiting a long time for this,” she explained to the boys. 

“I can imagine,” Alexander replied, taking a closer look at the picture. Angelica and her partner were holding hands in front of the Before I Die Wall in the city, he noticed. Both of them looked so happy together. He wondered if he was ever able to be that happy with anyone – let alone be in a relationship with that person. Lost in his own daydreams, he imagined he were in Angelica’s shoes in the picture, happily standing with whoever he was lucky enough to be with in front of the Before I Die Wall. For whatever reason, he had just begun to envision the person beside him with long curly hair before Angelica interjected his thoughts.

“Okay, we should probably go find Peggy and tell her the news!” Angelica called, starting to drag Eliza down the hall.

The boys chuckled and called their goodbyes. “Congratulations! Have a good wedding; see you next week!!”

The city’s courthouse was packed in the days following the Washington State legislation. John logged onto FaceBook to see the pictures of the lines of couples waiting to get married. _It’s absolutely insane this hasn’t been done sooner_ , he thought as he scrolled through the pictures upon pictures of excited couples anticipating their big moment. He even came across Angelica’s pictures of her and her partner’s marriage over the weekend. He couldn’t help feeling an immense amount of joy at the sight of their happiness. It really felt like they had accomplished something great. 

The following Monday, neither Alexander nor John saw Angelica at school. True, they didn’t have her as a student teacher in their classes, but they usually saw her in the hallways several times a day. They wanted to congratulate her for the groundbreaking marriage in person, but obviously could not. _No matter_ , they figured, _she's probably just on her honeymoon._

However, Angelica was still nowhere to be found during the next few days. Alexander also noticed a slump in Eliza’s behavior, which was quite unusual from the giddy and excited attitude she exhibited just days before. 

“When did your sister say she was coming back to school?” Alexander asked Eliza after a week had passed. “We still have to congratulate her in person.”

Eliza turned slowly, her face a mixture of anger and sadness. “She won’t be coming back,” she said quietly. Alexander’s smile dropped at the words. “They fired her. They _fired_ her over the _marriage_.”

 

Alexander paced his room restlessly. John sat on his bed, and Aaron on a chair, silently watching him fume. “This is a fucking outrage. An _outrage_!! Why should she lose her student teacher position because she got fuckin _married_?! How is this right?! How is this _legal_?!?”

“Well, you said they fired her because of her performance,” Aaron pointed out. 

Alexander whipped around. “You and I both know that’s bullshit!” he cried adamantly. The other two flinched. “She’s a brilliant student teacher! It’s outrageous to think that she leaves anyone but satisfied! And, why would they fire her in the middle of a semester? And _why_ , conveniently, after she just got married to another woman?!”

Aaron could only shrug in defeat. Groaning loudly, Alexander continued to pace aimlessly. 

John, incredibly frustrated as well, ran his hand through his long hair in stress. _How could this happen?_ Was _this even legal?_ He remembered his shock when Alexander approached them with the bad news. “Is...is there anything we can do?” he entreated almost unnoticeably. 

Surprisingly, Alexander heard the question. He spun around to indignantly reply, but faltered. “I...don’t know,” he ended with shoulders slumped. Joining John on the bed, he slowly set his head in his hands, defeated.

John leaned against his friend and pulled out his phone. “There’s gotta be some anti-discrimination article in the school district’s constitution, right? Maybe in the state’s constitution?”

“There is for race, gender, religion, disabilities, etc.,” Aaron answered, logging onto his laptop. “But sexual orientation? … Maybe; maybe not.” he researched the state constitution while John and Alexander scoured their school district’s website for any mention of the clause they were looking for. “Okay, I couldn’t find anything in the state constitution,” Aaron announced after a few minutes of searching. The other boys felt their hearts sink until he added: “But, there is a clause in the Revised Code of Washington.”

Alexander perked up at this and clasped John’s arm next to him. “ _Well??_ What does it say?”

Aaron squinted at his screen. “So, Title 49, Chapter 49.60.030: ‘Freedom from discrimination—Declaration of civil rights. 1’ --” 

“Jesus, Aaron, out with it!!”

“I’m getting there!” He glared at Alexander. “‘Declaration of civil rights. 1: The right to be free from discrimination because of race, creed, color, national origin, sex, honorably discharged veteran or military status, _sexual orientation_ ... is recognized as and declared to be a civil right. This right shall include, but not be limited to: a: The right to obtain and hold employment without discrimination; b: The right to the full’ --”

“That’s it!” Alexander jumped off the bed. “The freedom to express sexual orientation is a civil right! She has ‘the right to...hold employment without discrimination’; it says it right there!” he looked at the other two wildly in excitement.

Aaron held up a hand. “Wait. The people who fired Ms. Schuyler would never admit to discrimination; they said they did it because of her ‘performance’,” he air-quoted, to which Alexander violently air-quoted in response. “We have to prove it was actually her sexual orientation that got her fired.” 

John looked up from his phone. “I think we can prove how her performance wasn’t lacking,” he said thoughtfully. “What if we interviewed some of her students? Maybe some of the teachers she worked with? I’m sure she’ll get great reviews about her performance.”

Alexander nodded slowly. “That could work…”

“I found a complaint form on the school district’s website,” John added, showing them his phone. “We can file a citizen complaint against the school through OSPI.” 

“Send that to me.”

“Yessir,” John replied as he forwarded the page.

Aaron piped in again, “Wait, we still don’t know how we prove that she was discriminated against for her orientation. Without that, we’ll get nowhere.”

Rubbing his eyes, Alexander pondered silently. Gradually, it dawned on him. “Testimony. From her herself.” He snapped his fingers. The discrimination had been so subtle, yet so obvious now that he knew she was gay. Oh, how blind he had been; he had been so focused on living with his own bullying that he forgot it wasn’t supposed to be a daily occurrence in someone’s life. Flashbacks of Angelica entered his mind: her getting tripped on the very first day he saw her; his teacher constantly treating her harshly over the most menial tasks; Seabury mockingly calling her a dyke -- he was sure she faced more discrimination under the surface. 

“That could work,” John reiterated. 

“Okay!” Alexander clapped his hands in determination. “Let's go.”

###### 

The team of the three boys expanded to include Lafayette, Hercules, Eliza, and Peggy. Alexander and Aaron combined their writing and persuasion skills to write the citizen complaint while the rest thoroughly interviewed the student body who were taught by Angelica. As expected, almost all her reviews on her teaching performance were positive. There were a few, however, who vocally disapproved of her orientation and purposefully gave her a bad response. Little did they know that even that testimony would be used for evidence in proving Angelica was the subject of discrimination. 

During this time, a couple new students arrived at the school. One was named Jim Madison, and the other, Thomas Jefferson. The latter, Alexander soon came to realize, was absurdly obnoxious. He was too busy working to help Angelica to thoroughly pop his growing ego, so Thomas’s pompous attitude was left to fester and grow. It certainly didn't help that Jim would heartily back him up most times. Alexander decided he would just have to deal with Thomas's bullshit after the most prominent situation was resolved.

On the last day of school before their winter vacation, Alexander and Aaron were finished with their letter and the rest of the team had collected enough evidence. Angelica, incredibly grateful and indebted for their help, gave each of them heartfelt cards and gifts. Finally, after a few hard weeks of working, the team took a collective deep breath and sent the letter and mounds of evidence to the Office of the Superintendent of Public Instruction. They were promised at most 20 days before they got a response back either denying the allegations, or proposing actions to correct the violation. While they waited, they figured it was long past time to unwind and use the long winter break from school to their advantage.

The crisp December air nipped at John’s nose as he walked down the street with Alexander. At long last, the two could finally take a break together. They agreed that this entailed staying inside and binge-watching TV shows online. It was an activity that was extremely easy to do, but still kept their mind off of the stress of awaiting to hear the results of the citizen complaint.

Each boy clutched a hot drink from a local cafe in their gloved hands. John had gotten coffee, but had expressly forbidden his friend from ordering the same. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how much energy he would have on caffeine… Alexander had begrudgingly ordered hot chocolate, and was endlessly babbling in between sips. 

“That Jefferson kid just honestly rubs me the wrong way,” he was currently explaining, though John had heard the same rant a dozen times in the past week. “He’s been here for, what? Two weeks? We’ve already disagreed on like, 75 different fronts!”

“That does sound pretty disagreeable,” John laughed. They walked silently for a few moments. With all the craziness over for the time being, his mind was finally able to wander back to more personal, more daunting thoughts. Chewing his lip nervously, he pondered if he was going to tell his friend that day something he had held onto for such a long time...If he was finally going to come out to Alexander. He’d put it off so many times; he always felt bad about keeping the secret from him for so long...but it was just hard to admit to it himself. Though, Alexander did accept Angelica pretty well once they learned she was gay. Maybe if he’d - 

“Right? Okay, now tell me if this sounds crazy…” Alexander continued without noticing John’s pause. He drank a bit of coffee to cover up his nervousness. “But...doesn’t Thomas and Lafayette look almost exactly alike?”

“....Oh God, you’re right!” John exclaimed, honestly surprised to first realize the similarities only at that moment. His surprise pushed his other thoughts to the back of his mind.

“Right?? I’m glad you see it too; I thought I was the only one. I noticed it the first time I ever saw Thomas’ snide face,” Alexander grimaced. 

Another sip. “Well...y’know, we haven’t seen Thomas and Lafayette in the same room at once,” he joked. Alexander laughed. The conversation continued about the shockingly close similarities their French friend and academic nemesis held as they approached Alexander’s house. 

John felt his cheeks warm up as they stepped through the front door. He took off his shoes and hung up his coat while Alexander threw away their empty cups. 

“Where’s Aaron?” John called to his friend in the other room. 

“Out with his girl,” Alexander answered once he returned. The two boys made their way to his bedroom. Aaron migrated into George’s old bedroom when he moved out, so the room he and Alexander used to share became only Alexander’s room. Once in the bedroom, he turned on a laptop and plopped on his bed, making room for John.

John joined his friend. “Oh! So it wasn’t just a rumor that he was seeing someone? Who is it?”

“Yeah! Her name’s Theodosia. I guess they wanted to keep their relationship quiet for awhile, but finally decided it was time to come out.”

 _Okay, the universe is just fucking with me now,_ John thought bitterly as he realized the parallels between he and Aaron. However, he worked to keep his face as neutral as possible. “I see...And your parents? Are they gone too?” John listened for any other people in the house, but couldn’t seem to hear any.

“Yep. They’re off doing...whatever together,” Alexander waved one hand through the air; the other hand scrolling through Netflix. “Y’know, everyone else can go out and be social and shit; we’ll just stay here and waste away as the social outcasts we are.”

John chuckled then began chewing his lip thoughtfully. _This is good!_ he reasoned. _No one else is here, so now would be the perfect time to tell him. Okay...I will definitely tell him today. If Aaron "Never Shares Anything Personal" Burr could finally go public with his girlfriend, then I can come out too._ He sat back with a smile as Alexander chose a TV show to watch. 

His friend grabbed the pillow off the bed to put behind his head so that he could lean against the wall and watch the screen. John, too, rested his head on the pillow, which only encouraged him to rest his head on Alexander’s shoulder. He looked up at him periodically to study his face. 

The dark circles under his eyes only seemed to grow darker as the year went on; definitely accredited in part from the work of sending the complaint. John wondered how many hours his friend actually slept, or if he was constantly consumed by thoughts that kept him up. _Like I am…_ John quickly thought. His friend’s hair had finally reached shoulder-length. He didn’t tie it up that day, so the ends curled up and tickled John’s face while he lay down. He sighed in content, which made Alexander look down at him. He quickly averted his eyes. 

“You okay?” Alexander asked softly. 

“Yeh, I’m good,” John tried to play it off with a smile. His friend reluctantly turned back to the screen and he did so as well. _Shit…_ he cursed to himself. _I can’t tell him now; what if it ruins the entire day? And what would he even say?? … Then again, if I push it off, I’m gonna keep pushing it off, and I’ll never tell him. … But is this even the right time? Why is now not the right time? … What if I just --_

“John,” Alexander had paused the show and was looking at him with his eyebrows angled up in concern. “You don't look too well. Granted, this episode isn't the best, but we don't have to keep watching if you don't want to … Is everything okay?”

 _Shit, shit --_ “Yeah, yeah, I told you I’m good,” John offered another smile but he saw right through him. 

Alexander sat up and he mirrored the movement. He stared at John for a few more moments; John could feel whatever expression he was holding being dissected and analyzed. He tried to keep a neutral expression, but his mind continued to race inside. 

After what felt like an eternity, Alexander finally asked quietly, “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” John looked up to his friend and saw his pleading expression. _Dammit, not the puppy dog eyes…_ he groaned inwardly. He always had a weakness for that look Alexander could pull on a dime. “You actually just seem so distant all the time now,” Alexander continued. John felt a pang of guilt as he continued to stream through what he had been worried for a while. “Like you keep thinking about other things. Is it because of the letter? Or, is it… is it because of me? Did I do something wrong; is that why you're so anxious around me?”

John hurried to shake his head; Alexander still looked like a kicked puppy. _Shit, shit --_ he wished he could turn back time and go back to where they were just a few moments before: content and warm and together. There wasn’t really a good way for him to back out of this. “No, no, it’s not you. It has nothing to do with us hanging out,” he stressed. “It’s just…” Oh God, he was actually going to tell him, wasn’t he? “I’ve… I’ve been thinking about this...thing for a while, y’know? And you’ll be the first person who I ever told.” Alexander’s expression shifted from pain to curiosity. John looked down. “And..I guess I’ve _known_ for a while, but my dad - my family - would’ve killed me. They _will_ kill me if I ever tell them...” He was just stalling now. Trailing off, he tried to decide how exactly he would say the next part. The other boy opened his mouth to say something but John let it all go in a burst. “I’m gay, Alexander.”

Alexander was silent, blinking for a few moments before a smile began to tug at his lips in relief. “That's what's been bothering you all this time?” he asked slowly. “That you’re gay?”

John nodded. “Yeah...I’m gay,” he would have to get used to saying the repressed phrase. 

“You’re gay,” Alexander repeated. His smile grew and soon he began to laugh to John’s surprise. “Oh, John, I thought you were gonna tell me something really bad,” he explained. “I was mentally preparing myself to hear about suicide contemplations or - or a drug addiction.” Alexander inched closer to his friend and laid a hand on his arm. “Though I would have been just as happy to help if you were to tell me those things. Thank you for telling me.”

John was so surprised and relieved at his friend’s mild reaction. He laughed out loud a couple times, though his smile ended too quickly. Alexander smiled as well, glad to make his friend happy. However, he did notice that John understandably still seemed a bit awkward with having just come out. He had something to change that, though. 

He patted John’s arm and got off the bed. “Now, John, I don’t mean to show up your display… But I will,” John stared at Alexander in curiosity as he made his way over to his closet. He saw him pull up YouTube on his phone before disappearing inside and closing the door behind him. He was left in a few moments of silence before [a clear female voice ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbYcte4ZEgQ)came through the closed door.

_“I’m… cOMIN’… out...”_

He tilted his head as the voice sang, accompanied by the cheerful riff of a guitar. 

_“I’m cOMIN’! … I’m … cOMIN’ … out!”_

“...Diana Ross?” John mouthed in confusion. The song continued for about a minute until the guitar and drums slammed down together. At that moment, Alexander burst open the closet door.

_“I’m coming out! I want the world to know! Got-to let it show!!”_

Alexander mouthed the words dramatically and passionately as he danced his way to the boy on his bed. John immediately started laughing at the sight. 

_“There’s a new me coming out, and I just have to live! I want to give; I’m completely positive! I think this time around, I am gonna do it - like you never knew it! I’ll make it through!”_

The song continued and Alexander waved his hands through the air to add emphasis to his lip sync. John’s laughing was making him start to break and his sync was a bit off. Making his way to his giggly friend, he cupped his chin in his hand. 

_“The time has come for me to break out of this shell! I have to shout… that I am coming out!!”_

“I am coming out!” Alexander sang out loud to the beat, opening and closing John’s mouth to the lyrics like a ventriloquist. John swatted his hands away from his face but continued to laugh. Alexander could hardly mouth the lyrics through his own laughter, so he finally gave in. Eventually the uncontrollable giggling became controllable and died down. 

John clutched his stomach in pain. “Ohhh…” he breathed out. “That was...unexpected.”

“Feel free to use that the next time you tell someone.” He nodded and Alexander grinned. “But you still have to give me some credit,” he warned. “I’m sure you’ll figure out creative ways of telling people, too. Once you’ve done it so many times like me, you can’t help but have a lil’ fun with it.”

John cocked an eyebrow. “Wait...that was _you_ coming out?”

“Um. Yeah,” Alexander said in fake exasperation. “I thought I made that pretty clear by busting out of the closet,” he chuckled. “Shall I do it again for you?” He made a move to get back up but John dragged him back down. 

“No, no, I got that,” he smiled. “But...you’re gay too?”

“Close! I’m bisexual,” he answered with relative ease.

John stared at his friend as if through new eyes. “Really?”

“Really.”

“But… you’re so nonchalant about it.”

Alexander smiled sadly. “Well, I’ve known for a while,” he explained. “You can’t really form any romantic attachments to male or female people when you’re constantly moving, though. The most I could do back on the East Coast was be honest like this, and tell people...though, some in more creative ways.”

John ran his fingers through his hair and felt the new information sink in. “Wait, why didn’t you tell me sooner?!” he suddenly asked, punching his friend’s arm.

“Why didn’t _you_ tell me sooner?”

“I...I have my reasons,” John flushed.

“I do, too, then,” Alexander winked. 

“Fair enough,” John chuckled. Both boys sat for a while, consumed by their own thoughts. “Well...what happens now?” he prodded carefully.

Alexander sighed. “Keep watching on the laptop?” he gave a crooked smile. “Either that, or watch me perform again.”

John snickered. “You’ll have to step up your game if you ever want to make it big; 'Hamilton on Broadway' is still a long ways away. I wouldn’t really call that ‘performing’ any more than ‘slowly losing your friend’s respect’ though.” Alexander hit him with the pillow for that, but he took it graciously. Setting it back behind their heads, Alexander hit PLAY on the screen again, and the boys settled back into their original positions to watch. This time, however, the weight on John’s shoulders were lifted. He comfortably leaned against his friend’s shoulder, unabashedly enjoying the sensation of his hair tickling his face and feeling him breathe next to him.

###### 

Aaron checked their mail box and took a double take when he saw a letter sent from the Office of Superintendent of Public Instruction. He grabbed it and rushed back inside his house to show Alexander. There were just a few days left of winter vacation, so the brothers called each team member to meet up. They decided to meet as a group at the city’s library. Within an hour, the entire team sat in one of the library’s study rooms, waiting in anticipation to open the letter. 

They had Angelica do the honor of reading the letter out loud. With their breaths held, she shakily tore open the envelope and removed the paper inside. Clearing her throat, she began reading. “Dear Mr. Hamilton, we have received your complaint and gone through the testimonies you have provided. Your letter, as well as the testimonies, have been copied and forwarded to the school board,” she paused and took a deep breath. “After reviewing all the information, we have concluded that the cause of Ms. Schuyler’s untimely termination of her occupation was a violation of Title 49, Chapter 49.60.030 of the Revised Code of Washington. We are currently working to reinstate Ms. Schuyler --”

“It worked?!” Alexander interrupted as the words sank in. “It - it worked!” he exclaimed, facing his friends in excitement.

“Alright, alright, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!!” John cheered along with the others. They clapped and cheered until a library attendant ordered them to be quieter. That didn’t remove the huge smiles from their faces, however. 

Eliza was almost hugging Angelica to death. She smiled with a cautious relief in her arms. In addition to Angelica, Eliza also gave a long hug to Aaron and an even longer one to Alexander, which seemed to last a couple moments too long to John. 

“Thank you all so much for your help!” Angelica addressed the group once celebrations had been made. She had tears in her eyes and was fiddling with her new wedding ring on her finger. “I cannot truly express how grateful I am. This has been such an amazing accomplishment.” As they each excitedly exited the library, Alexander overheard Angelica telling her new wife the news over the phone. 

“Just look around,” she reveled. “Look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now!”

###### 

By the time the school year picked up after the break, Angelica was back in her student teacher position, though under a different teacher. She and Alexander always shared knowingly triumphant looks when they passed each other in the hallways. With the success of their citizen complaint, a huge weight lifted off of his shoulders. However, his nose was back to the grindstone again in his classes. Perhaps his workload would be lighter if he didn’t chronically put off doing it until the last moment, but procrastination was a hard habit to break. Plus, he would much rather use his time to correct and/or smack down the intolerable ass that was Thomas Jefferson. Alexander’s thoughts were always racing and piling up; even in the one class he didn’t have to think: gym. 

He doubted that half the people in his gym class thought very much anyway. He couldn’t believe how idiotic half the things the students would say or do in his class; not to mention what he saw the school’s athletes do. _How are Lafayette and Hercules able to stand these morons?_ Alexander questioned bitterly as he watched two boys get in a shouting match over whether a ball landed out of bounds. Despite his size, Hercules could be surprisingly quiet and sneaky around his football teammates. Because of this, he often overhears ignorant and misinformed conversations between players, which he then relays to his friends later. As a result, Alexander had developed a full-blown hatred for naturally ignorant athletes, which only increased in his gym class. At least not everything about his gym class was completely horrible, however. 

He did have John with him. During the class, they would almost always pair up or run together. It was comforting to know that at least one person in that class wasn’t terrible. 

In the locker room before and after the class, he and John would change near one another. Ever since Alexander had to help his friend remove and put on his shirt after last year’s fight with Lee, he couldn’t help but sneak tiny glances at him as he changed. John was obviously self-conscious of his body (he changed while literally facing a corner!), so Alexander made sure his glances were very discrete. The last thing he wanted to do was make his friend feel uncomfortable.

Yet, in those short glances, he did notice how well-toned John was. His torso was very compact, but his skin looked so soft; Alexander couldn't help keeping his hand on his bare skin for a moment longer than necessary last year. He had smiled when he realized that John even had freckles scattered over his shoulders and on his upper back. Every day, he felt almost compelled to run his hand along John’s back - to feel his skin; to trace his freckles. 

But that was completely out of the question. 

They were just friends. 

So, every day, Alexander shook his head to force the ideas out of his mind and continued to avert his eyes.

###### 

It had been a successful year. Despite making a few new nemeses like Thomas, Alexander felt several more friendships solidify. He and Aaron seemed to be back on the same level of friendly sibling rivalry as before, and after helping Angelica get her job back, his relationship with the Schuyler sisters could not have been better. Lafayette and Hercules also began to show much more interest in their friend’s writing, and even joined him in his rants at times rather than simply enjoying the show. He was also much more connected to John on a personal level after they both came out to one another in the winter. Because of that, John exhibited more energy and joy than ever before whenever they were together. It always made Alexander smile to see his friend truly comfortable with himself. It was in those times that he felt the closest to him. 

Soon, it was summer vacation. He and John only had a week to spend time together before he had to travel to South Carolina again. On the last day he was in Washington State, Henry Laurens was out of the house, so John invited Alexander over. 

John met his friend halfway so that they could walk together. As they entered his house, he placed his house keys in a bowl, and paused in front of the larger ceramic bowl with the stones carefully placed inside. For about the millionth time, he watched as John gently touched the side of the large slice of granite in the bowl for a few moments before continuing on his path. 

After three years of witnessing the same procedure again and again, Alexander finally decided to ask what John was doing. “John, what are you doing when you touch that stone?” he entreated as they passed a couple of his siblings. “Is the arrangement a shrine?”

His friend paused before opening his bedroom door. “You… could call it a shrine,” he finally answered, stepping inside and closing the door behind them. They sat side by side on his bed. “But, I’d say it’s more symbolic than religious.” Alexander raised an eyebrow, urging him to expand on his statement. “Well, my father and my… mom - they wanted a big family. But… things kept going wrong.” Alexander’s expression softened from curiosity to sympathy. “In total, my parents had _thirteen_ kids. But, clearly...only four of us survived this far. I guess I was the first lucky one,” he tried to smile.

Alexander moved to lay a hand comfortingly on his friend. “So the eight stones in the bowl…”

“...represent my eight siblings who couldn’t make it,” John finished. “And _then_ , before I went to England, my mother passed away.” Alexander tightened his grip. “That big piece of granite in the bowl - we asked the person making the headstone to let us keep a piece that broke off. The arrangement isn’t a huge tribute, but it is nice to have something to remember them by.”

Alexander smiled softly at that. “I think it’s a great, significant tribute to them.” But something John had said didn’t make complete sense: if eight siblings didn’t make it, and John had three other siblings, where was the thirteenth child? “Is there...a tribute for one more sibling?” he asked slowly.

Despite the careful phrasing, he still felt John stiffen up and lower his eyes further. Alexander desperately tried to think of a way to backpedal from the touchy subject as John’s pause elongated. Finally, John unlooped his bracelet on his left wrist. It had been the first time Alexander studied the accessory on his friend since the first time he saw it, but now he realized the stone on the bracelet was not unlike the other stones as part of the tribute to his late siblings. 

John turned the smooth stone over and over in his fingers, running his thumb along a thin white crack on its surface. From the second-nature action that movement held, Alexander inferred John would often do this. “Back in England, there were five of us,” he began, his voice was so quiet he had to lean closer to hear him. “My sister Mary was just a baby back then. And Jemmy - uhm, James - he was just about to turn ten. I told my dad, y’know, I would take great care of them while he was out with the others; it’d be no problem. But then Mary started fussing, right? So I had to go to the store with her and get some new diapers or whatever. We were only gone for a couple minutes, but in that time, Jemmy -” John clenched the stone in his palm. “We think Jemmy was trying to scale the house; just playing around. But he fell. And cracked his skull open.” John held up the stone to Alexander to show the thin crack, his eyes red. “This is pretty fuckin’ ironic, isn’t it?”

Alexander watched in heavy silence as John looped the bracelet over his wrist again. “Y’know, what happened wasn’t your fault,” he insisted. “You were out of the house at the time.”

“Yeah, but I could’ve brought him along. I could’ve...I could’ve done _something else_ …” John trailed off helplessly. At the time, his father told him he didn’t blame him for his brother's death, but he always got the impression he secretly did. God knows how much he blamed himself. 

They were silent for a few minutes after that; Alexander pressed his forehead gently against John’s and drew circles with his thumb over his arm during the silence. Finally, he decided to come clean with John once again. “Uhm, I do happen to know how you feel, though. My mother passed, too. I suspect my brother as well...”

John looked at his friend in surprise. Alexander’s past had inherently been absolutely off-limits in all of their conversations; this was certainly new territory they were entering. “I’m sorry,” was all he could think of to say. He looked so vulnerable. They were both _so vulnerable_ it felt like any one of them may fall apart. John wrapped his arms around his middle like he usually did during a storm. 

“It’s okay. It’s actually partly why I’m here now,” he smiled sadly, gratefully nuzzling into John’s neck. “We were incredibly ill - like, very, very, very sick. But, she was holding me. We were sick, and she was holding me. I couldn’t seem to die… So, miraculously, I got better...but my mother went quick. My brother and I were separated, and then … some other bad shit happened, and my townspeople, inspired by my story, managed to get me to the U.S.”

Alexander’s story was a thousand times more vague than John’s, but he knew he shouldn’t push his friend. The past half hour of confessing how they had lost loved ones drained their energy, though John felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders being able to talk about his past with someone. It brought a new sense of closure. Leaning down on the top of Alexander’s head, he laid a quick kiss. “Well… I am so glad you are here now.”

“We’re both pretty lucky to be here,” Alexander sighed, tracing over the freckles on John’s arm with his finger. Another bout of silence ensued, though this one was more reflective than awkward. About an hour passed. The atmosphere in the room grew lighter as the boys covered their vulnerability back up. After the wait, Alexander decided to change to a more uplifting subject. “And we’re both lucky to be here, in Washington State,” he reiterated. “Why do you have to go to South Carolina _againnn_?” he groaned, closing his eyes.

John laughed at the reaction, the noise loud and refreshing after their conversation. “We gotta visit our relatives! They let us stay in their huge house for a couple months, so it’s a pretty sweet deal.”

“What do you even do there?”

“I don’t even know half the time.” They laughed more easily now. “I swear, my father's always trying to find me a girlfriend when we go there.”

“Ha! How so?”

“He takes us to all these social events. Like fairs, and stuff.”

“Fairs? That’s pretty normal, right?”

“No, no. _Southern_ fairs. You know what kinds of things are in southern fairs?”

“Uhm...petting zoos?”

“More like petting farms! Apparently the best setting to get a date is while a goat is chewing your shirt.” Alexander chuckled at the thought. “Or while watching a bull riding contest. Or while watching an eating contest. Or while squaredancing --”

“Did you just say _‘squaredancing’_?!” Alexander shot up, almost hitting John’s chin. “Like, _you, squaredance??_ ”

John turned red. “Ye-yeah; I mean, like I said, my father kind of forces us to. He thinks I can woo a gal by spinning her around a bunch.”

Alexander had to cover his mouth to stop from laughing too loudly. “Could you please demonstrate some of your amazing squaredancing moves?”

His friend adamantly refused, but after much persuasion, Alexander at last got him to stand up and do some moves. When the routine was done, Alexander was left rolling on the bed, dying of laughter. “Did you ever woo any girls from that?”

“Hell no!” John laughed. “But that doesn’t mean my father doesn’t stop forcing me to do it.”

Alexander leapt up. “I’ve got just the solution, then,” he declared. “Do the waltz. Woo the girl. That’ll get your dad off your back.”

“I don’t even think the waltz plays in the fairs! Besides, I have no idea how to do it.”

“Not played yet!” Alexander corrected, setting his hands on his friend’s shoulders. “I’mma teach it to you right now. This is an essential skill to have, John! It’ll woo more than just the ladies, trust me.”

At that, John closed his mouth and stopped whatever retort he had prepared. With a defeated sigh, he placed one hand on Alexander’s hip and the other in his hand. “This is absolutely stupid. We should have asked Lafayette to help us - he actually knows how to dance.”

“Well, you’re stuck with me; deal with it,” Alexander retorted. “Now, you’ll want to move your feet to the side like this as we step forward, then back…” he instructed each step to the dance with ease. The absurdity of the situation seemed to melt away as John genuinely tried to concentrate on getting the steps right. The pressure of Alexander’s hand on his shoulder and in his own hand was comforting, at least. 

Soon the two boys were ready to practice with music. John played the waltz song off his phone and they danced along. While dancing, Alexander was pleased to see John concentrating so hard. His friend tried his best not to look at his feet while dancing, so the two instead maintained eye contact for most of the song. His face was actually quite pleasant to look at, Alexander slowly realized. 

Had his jaw always been so well-defined? The curls of his hair was a nice contrast to it, and his eyes - though set slightly apart - held a wild fire when he was intently concentrating like he was at the moment. He felt himself blush slightly when he licked his lips in concentration.

The song ended and the boys slowed to a halt. John leaned his forehead against his friend’s and laughed, his heart beating from the dance and from their closeness. It felt surprisingly good to dance with him. 

Alexander chuckled as well, breathing deeply the other boy’s scent. He smelled like fresh laundry, he realized as his pace quickened. There was that urge again. The urge to kiss him. Alexander noticed the urge as a whole had reduced greatly the past year, but almost seemed to increase around John. Now, the urge was almost unbearable. His hand on John’s shoulder trailed up his neck and to his face. He was so close. So close; it would be so easy to -- 

He tilted John’s face up to his and closed the small gap between their lips. John’s eyes grew wide in surprise and he expected him to pull away immediately. Much to his own surprise, however, he stayed right where he was. They pulled away for a moment to catch their breath. Alexander searched his face for signs of anger, but found none. John’s mouth was still slightly open, so he dared to kiss him again. 

The second kiss was a bit deeper; a bit more deliberate. He felt John’s hand on his side - frozen in place from the first kiss - now cautiously snake its way up his body. Alexander closed his eyes. God, this was nice. All those little pecks they had given each other for the past few years couldn’t compare to this experience. He had just freed his hand from John’s to bring up to his face when a door slammed outside the room, and Henry Laurens’ familiar booming footsteps sounded. His eyes shot open as he felt John curtly shove him away. 

The electric and pleasant atmosphere that had enveloped them only moments before immediately dissipated with the tiny movement. John, now trained at whatever was outside his door, looked terrified. It quickly turned apologetic when he looked back and saw Alexander’s hurt expression.

 _Shit; why did I try again?! Why do I keep forcing myself onto him?!_ Alexander yelled at himself, the warmth of his lips transferring to his cheeks and eyes. Both boys seemed frozen in place. _God, I’m so stupid I’m so stupid; fuck, this was a terrible, stupid idea._ John watched in shock as Alexander quickly gathered his things and made his way out the door, mumbling something along the lines of “I should go.” He opened his mouth in protest, but was still too dumbfounded at what just happened to say anything coherent. 

Filled with embarrassment, Alexander exited his friend’s house in record time, even passing by Henry Laurens with no more than a “Goodbye, sir.” His legs running faster than the thoughts in his head, he quickly made it back to his own house. Shakily leaning against a wall, he tried to figure out what he had just done.

###### 

_“We laugh and we cry and we break and we make our mistakes…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Kiss kiss fall in regret!_
> 
> Living in Washington State myself, I remember when gay marriage first got legalized here. It was quite a big deal~  
> True story about John Laurens's siblings, though. Poor little Jemmy :(
> 
> Finally, guess who sifted through the archives of the Internet to find the 2012 version of the Revised Code of Washington State for that anti-discrimination clause, _as well as_ stalking Mount Vernon School District's website to figure out how to file a citizen complaint? *slowly raises hand*


	4. 2013-2014

__

> _I hardly knew the value you had taught my heart to set upon you. Indeed, my friend, it was not well done. You know the opinion I entertain of mankind, and how much it is my desire to preserve myself free from particular attachments, and to keep my happiness independent on the caprice of others. You should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent --_

_No, now that sounds like I’m blaming him,_ Alexander stopped typing on his laptop. He erased his work and started over. 

__

> _Let friendship between us be more than a name --_

_No, no; that’s much too direct. I need to...explain more._

__

> _Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my Dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by action rather than words, to convince you that I love --_

He paused, fingers hovering just over the keyboard. With a long sigh, he closed the screen and pushed himself away from his desk. The sun through his window had finally gone down, leaving his room dark and cold. Another day was wasted trying to compose a proper apology/explanation for kissing John. Alexander had been drafting different letters the entire summer. With the school year about to begin again, his current blank Word document was extremely intimidating.

In the few months of summer, he had received several hurried texts and voicemail messages from his friend about the kiss. At first, he was scared to check what John had said, in case the messages might have revealed how angry or embarrassed John was that he kissed him. When his curiosity at last beat his fear, Alexander checked his messages. Surprisingly, they weren’t angry; rather, very apologetic. 

_He has nothing to apologize for,_ Alexander told himself for the thousandth time. _He's too kind... It was all my fault. It_ is _all my fault;_ I _need to apologize._ For the past couple months, he had tried to do nothing but that. However, the only thing his efforts managed to produce were over-embellished and half-done explanations. He couldn’t exactly put all his emotions into words alone, and he was running out of time to try to do so.

Alexander made his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water before attempting to write something again. He was surprised to see Aaron in the kitchen, reading a newspaper at the table. “What are you doing up so late?” he asked as he searched for a cup.

“I think the term is, ‘early’,” Aaron answered, watching him carefully. 

He stared out the window at the world blanketed by a dark blue. “What?? I could have sworn the sun just went do--” he stopped talking as the world outside the window began to brighten again by the sunrise. Glancing at a clock, he groaned loudly. It was already 5:30 in the morning.

“Is this really the first time you’ve left your room?” Aaron chuckled, but when Alexander didn’t respond back in a normally witty reply, he grew serious again. “You alright, Alexander? What are you working on?”

Alexander sipped his water. “Just...trying to write something,” he answered after a pause. 

Aaron waved a hand dismissively. “Only writing? You should have no problem with that, then.”

“It’s...actually a little bit more than that,” he shrugged. Aaron gave him an entreating expression, encouraging him to continue but Alexander just rubbed his face warily. _Could Aaron actually help? He seems to have a pretty solid relationship._ “Okay,” he stepped toward Aaron. “Suppose you have a friend -”

“Nope - stopping this shit right now. If it’s you, just say so from the beginning.”

Alexander rolled his eyes. “ _Fine,_ yes, I’m having a small problem.” Aaron gestured for him to sit, so he took the chair beside him. “I may have...done something stupid,” he said slowly, running his thumb over the rim of the glass. 

“Not surprised,” Aaron muttered, but concern still filled his eyes as he leaned forward. “What’d you do?”

Another pause. He trained his eyes on his glass and felt his face begin to heat up. “I kissed someone,” he finally replied quietly. 

“Ah…” Aaron waiting for Alexander to continue, but he seemed extremely hesitant. “By any chance, was it John?”

Alexander’s eyes shot up to meet his in surprise. If he were to guess anybody, he was sure he would have guessed Eliza. “How did you know?”

Aaron chuckled, “Please, it’s so obvious! Watching you two was a bigger ‘will-they-or-won’t-they’ adventure than Jim and Pam on The Office.”

Alexander's cheeks turned redder at the comment. _Was it really that obvious??_ “How...how long did you know, then?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “Freshman year, you guys were always so close; always talking in class and working together. George and I even commented how odd it was for you to go over to his house nearly every day.” With each point, Alexander silently became more flustered. “Plus, have you ever noticed the way you guys talk - or even _look_ at each other? I think the most telling, however, is the fact that you two have _already kissed_ during storms!” Aaron couldn’t help smiling at how embarrassed he looked, though he became gentler now. “Why is _this_ kiss so different from all the other ones?”

“Because it wasn’t on the mouth before!!” Alexander exclaimed. “Those other ones were done for comfort, y'know? This kiss...this one was for something else. I just...I just want everything to go back to normal.”

The other boy nodded knowingly. After a while, he asked, “So was John mad you kissed him?”

“No, no,” he answered quickly, but paused. “At least, I don’t think so; _he_ apologized to me over text.”

“Then _why are you so worked up?_ ”

“He pushed me away!” Alexander snapped, frustrated at their lack of progress and having to relay everything over again. “It was going fine, but then he heard his dad come home. It seemed like he snapped out of it, and--” he mimicked John’s shove. “--he pushed me away.” Aaron looked at his brother with sympathy. “I mean - if he did that, then he _clearly_ didn't want it, right? So, I’m trying to figure out what to say to him when he gets back,” he continued and threw up his hands. “I’ve got _nothing_ so far.”

A bird chirped outside as the yard continued to lighten. Both boys looked out the kitchen window, distracted by the pleasant view for at least a moment. The world, always so apathetic to their problems, continued to live. Time endlessly soldiered on; the sun still came up and the world still spun. They heard the coffee maker beside them on the counter turn on automatically.

Finally, Aaron leaned forward and placed a hand on Alexander’s shoulder. “Now, what I'm going to say, I mean this in the best way possible. Alexander, you may be the Renaissance Man of our generation, but you are completely blind to emotions.” Alexander began to protest but Aaron interrupted. “You can try to debate me that your relationship with John is completely platonic, but I can assure you that you will lose. Do you really not notice how often - and how much - John tries to touch you? And you, to him? Do you notice him acting that way around anyone else?”

“I - I wouldn’t know; he interacts with a lot of people.”

“Yeah, and eighty percent of the time, you’re with him when he interacts with others! What I’m trying to get at is: John is clearly interested back. You say that your kiss with him was ‘going fine’?”

“Yeah…until he heard his dad coming. Then he pushed me away.”

Aaron shook his head. “I feel like this is a huge misunderstanding. Maybe John is just self-conscious. His family - how accepting do they seem to be?”

“Not at all.”

“Then there you go,” Aaron concluded. “I am _positive_ he didn’t push you away because he didn’t like the kiss or you.”

Alexander mulled Aaron's reasoning over a bit in his mind. Of course it made sense, but...had he really been that blind? He did suppose that he and John always touched and talked much more than normal friends would, but it had been happening for so many years it had just become a normal thing in their friendship. Then again, John didn’t pull away from his kiss - nor from his kisses before. _Really, the only time he pulled away was when he heard his dad nearby, and that one time he heard Aaron coming -- Ohh my God; I have been so stupid; so so stupid._ “I am so, so stupid,” Alexander groaned loudly again, this time in frustration at his own skewed logic. He had been so focused on trying to explain himself he never stopped to wonder if he even _had_ to.

“Well, only sometimes,” Aaron smiled slightly and removed his hand from his shoulder. 

Hiding his face in his palms, Alexander pleaded with a muffled voice, “What do I say to him _now_??”

“Just tell him the truth!” Aaron replied, prying one of Alexander’s hands off his face. “Alexander, do you _like_ John?” He waited for him to nod. “Then _tell_ him that. Just say, ‘John, I like you!’”

“That’s too direct,” he grumbled, burying his face again.

“Then make it more interesting,” Aaron offered. “How about: ‘Lafayette is hard rock like Lancelot, Hercules, I think your pants are hot, but Laurens, I like you a lot!’”

Despite his miserableness, Alexander couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. He looked up through his fingers and hit the other boy’s shoulder. “That was terrible.”

“Better than what you can come up with,” he shrugged. Their adoptive parents were beginning to come downstairs to get started with their day. 

Alexander stood up with his water glass. “Thank you though. I’ll see what I can do.” Aaron gave him a fake salute and he traveled back to his room to ponder over what to do now. 

Once he had disappeared from view, Aaron surreptitiously pulled out his phone and began to type. 

_Hey John!  
When is your family coming back to Washington?_

_Hi Aaron. We’ll be back the day before school starts_

_Great! Do you think I could talk to you after school the first day?_

_Sure  
Why? _

_Just wanted to show you something. Could we meet by the flag pole?_

_Okay; see you there_

###### 

The first day of the school year began. The other students in their grade level appeared excited to be in their final year of high school while many of the teachers looked like they were praying for the 180 days to go quickly. Like their students, they had dark circles under their eyes and incredibly unenthusiastic attitudes. Alexander, too, was looking worse for wear. 

He pulled an all-nighter the previous night in the hopes that inspiration would strike him at the eleventh hour. However, he had no such luck. All that struck him was a low-grade fever and an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. It had also been several days since he had taken his last shower, so his head was very shiny. The grease was made worse by his long locks, so he was forced to tie his hair into a tight ponytail. He was the packaged model of the Antisocial SeniorTM. Not even Lafayette or Hercules dared to engage their friend in very long conversations. 

As Alexander had expected and feared, he and John shared much of the same class schedule. In half of his classes, he would walk in and spot the boy across the room. A few times, they made quick eye contact, but Alexander consistently averted his eyes and sat far away from him. It was still too early for them to talk yet; he still had no idea what he should say. When the bell rang to dismiss them, he collected his belongings and hurried out of the room before John could approach him.

He didn’t know what time John’s lunch was. When he was dismissed to eat, he dashed inside the boys’ restroom and locked himself in the stall for the break. His grumbling stomach protested greatly, but was a better alternative than accidentally running into John in the cafeteria. While in the small stall, Alexander continued to pace back and forth. _Aaron’s advice doesn't work at all,_ he silently cursed while wringing his hands. _The "truth"?! What could I say that's the truth?!_ He sat down on the closed toilet seat and dropped his head in his hands. This was so unlike him. He had words for _everything_ ; he could write endlessly about _anything._ Yet he had been stuck on this one issue for months. The quickened breath he heard in his ears turned out to be his own. He tried to push the thoughts out of his head and to calm down.

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine…” Alexander muttered quietly under his breath. He waited a few seconds, but his heart rate still wouldn’t come down. “Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf…” Still, his breaths and pulse came out fast, which only caused him to panic more. He was starting to feel lightheaded. Shakily reaching into his pocket, Alexander pulled out his phone to call Aaron for help. He paused, however, his fingers hovering over the call button. Instead of calling Aaron, he navigated to play his saved voicemail messages. 

_“Hey! I noticed that it was getting stormy. I won’t be able to call you tonight, so here’s a little recording of me doing our exercise to help you get through it,”_ the clear voice of John played through the phone. The message was saved two years ago after John's fight with Charles Lee. _Things were so much simpler back then,_ Alexander moped as the message played. _Before I ruined everything._ He heard John clear his throat on the phone and begin their counting exercise. 

_“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf…”_

“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf…” Alexander repeated, mouthing the words along. As he continued the exercise with John’s recording, he was pleased to finally feel his heart rate and breathing regulate again. Breathing deeply, he leaned his head against the side on the stall and turned off his phone. The bell to get back to class rang through the restroom. Alexander paused a couple seconds, mentally picking up his thoughts again, and then departed. 

 

_Hey, can we meet beside the flagpole after school today?_

The message from Aaron dinged in Alexander’s pocket as he entered his next class. He responded with an affirmative text and tucked his phone away. When the final bell of the day sounded, he thanked God the day was finally over and walked to the flagpole.

He fiddled with his car keys nervously as he watched the other students milling off the school campus. With a frown, he studied the crowd, but was unable to make Aaron out. The buses and many of the students’ cars left the school, and still no sign of his brother. It had been 10 minutes; he was beginning to worry. 

_Wait_...the situation seemed oddly familiar. With a sudden burst of deja vu, Alexander came to the realization. _Jesus, did I really wait at the wrong flagpole again?!_ He looked around him, and sure enough, realized he was at the school’s secondary flagpole. _People have got to stop distinguishing landmarks as ‘the’ if there are more than one of the same thing!_ Alexander grumbled as he began trudging toward the front of the school. _So technically this is only partially my fau--_

“Alexander?” he heard a familiar voice call. He inherently turned to the person who spoke his name. 

_Shit, shit--_ Alexander panicked once he realized it was John who called to him. There was nowhere for him to hide. He was walking toward him; he still had nothing prepared to s-- “Hey,” he managed to croak out as John approached. 

“Hey,” John mimicked with just the same amount of carefully hidden emotion. He glanced behind him, where Aaron could be seen a little bit aways. “Aaron asked me to meet with him after school today,” he explained slowly. “He said you were supposed to be there too, but when you didn’t show, we suspected you --”

“--I was waiting at the wrong one again,” Alexander finished. 

“Right,” John laughed, which seemed to calm his nerves a bit. “But hey, listen,” he grew serious again. “Do you think we could talk? I mean - I think, I would very much like to talk to you,” he stuttered through his words. 

Alexander couldn’t look away from his pleading eyes even if he tried. “Okay,” he finally replied quietly to which John breathed out in relief. 

The boys decided to walk over to John’s house to talk. As Alexander was saying goodbye to Aaron, Aaron pulled him aside and whispered curtly, “Just tell him the truth,” before heading toward their car with a confident stride. Alexander was left with the opposite of confidence. 

As he and John walked down the same path they had crossed too many times to count, his anxious thoughts continued to stack upon one another. Despite the warm weather, Alexander shoved his hands in his jean pockets and tried to be as contained as possible so as to not touch John accidentally. John, too, couldn’t seem to bring himself to start a conversation while they walked. The silence between them was heavy; it weighed down their steps and made it difficult for them to continue moving. Alexander felt like he was walking to his doom - to the inevitable discussion he was still not prepared to have. 

Somehow, they were able to make it to John’s house without letting the awkwardness consume them. They were greeted half-heartedly by John’s younger sister, Martha, who just started high school. While Alexander removed his shoes, he spied the other boy taking a bit longer than usual with his ritual at the bowl of stones. He watched him as he gently placed his hand on the large piece of granite - which Alexander had learned represented John’s late mother - for a few more moments. It almost looked like he was praying. John quickly left the spot and continued on the familiar path up to his bedroom. Alexander followed quietly, the dread sinking into the pit of his stomach.

John opened his bedroom door and waited patiently for him to walk through. On any other day, Alexander would have entered and sat down on his bed, immediately babbling about whatever was on his mind. That day however, he stiffly stood in one corner of the room, trying to be as small as possible. _Okay, I’ll just have to say I’m sorry. I’ll apologize and try my best to explain what came over me, and then I can leave - forever,_ Alexander reasoned with himself, but began chewing his lip nervously when he realized they were only a few feet away from where they had kissed. 

The other boy very slowly closed the door behind them. The click of the knob rang out in the silent room and he turned back. Alexander was already opening his mouth to begin his apology, but was stopped almost immediately by John pressing his lips against his. With genuine surprise, his eyes grew wide as he realized John was kissing him. 

Only after a mere second, John pulled away slightly, leaving Alexander’s mouth slightly agape in shock. He was so close. He could see the tiny flecks of hazel in his eyes and the loose curls on his head shivering as he slightly shook. John reached up to clench part of Alexander’s jacket desperately as if he would bolt. The next few seconds were dedicated to John trying to sort the thoughts in his head. “Is...is this unpleasant for you?” he asked quietly. 

Removing his hands from his pockets, Alexander shook his head quickly. John laughed nervously, and looked down, the sudden movement of air hitting Alexander’s nose. “Good...Because, it’s not really unpleasant for me either,” John confessed shakily. The corners of Alexander’s mouth began to twitch upward. John looked back up and stole another quick kiss. Then another. Then _another._ The last one lasted for a couple more seconds.

Alexander used the time to carefully move his hands over to John's sides. John slowly pulled his lips away from Alexander’s, but trailed his kisses along his cheek and down his neck before burying his face in his shoulder. With another quick movement, Alexander was enveloped in a tight hug. 

“I am so sorry,” John’s voice was muffled by his shoulder. His back quivered slightly and Alexander felt his shirt collar grow damp. “I missed you so much,” he continued. “When you wouldn’t answer any of my texts or calls, I thought you were really mad at me. You’re not mad at me, are you?” 

With still no words in his mind to answer, Alexander just shook his head and pulled John closer to him. Dammit, he had missed him incredibly, too. The past few months had been Hell not being able to talk to him. He had assumed he had effectively lost John. Yet, here he was now, pressed tightly against his chest. 

After a minute, John hesitantly pulled himself out of the hug and wiped his eyes, which were now rimmed with red. He was still so unbelievably close to his face; his brow grazed his nose when he looked down. “Alexander, you’ve barely said anything,” John sounded like he was on the verge of crying again, his tone like a call for help. 

Alexander swallowed slightly before using one hand to cup John’s face and turn it up toward his. The only phrase that came to mind was Aaron’s stupid line. “Laurens, I like you a lot,” he said quietly. 

 

“Soooo how did your talk with John go?” Aaron asked once Alexander arrived back in his house later that evening.

The other boy turned slightly red before answering. “It was...fine. Better than expected,” he replied, beginning to smile.

###### 

It was fortunate John and Alexander didn’t have gym class their senior year. If they did, they probably would have been unable to control themselves in the locker room. They could barely control themselves while in their classes together. 

Like before in their shared classes, the two boys tried to sit as close as possible to one another. Whenever passing papers, they would make slightly more eye contact than necessary, or graze the other's hand a little more often than accidentally. Alexander often positioned his legs under his desk so that they would ‘by chance’ come in contact with John’s. John still doodled in his classes, but had also taken up drawing Alexander again. At that point, it almost felt like he could draw him from memory, but really, it was just an excuse for him to stare for long periods of time. 

The two paramours shared a lunch table with Eliza, Peggy, and Lafayette - only Hercules was exempt from the group. Over the summer, he had found a passion for fashion and sewing, and used his lunch break to learn techniques in the home ec room. When with their close friends, the two boys consciously tried to avoid any extra contact with one another so as to not raise any suspicion. As a result, both were extremely stiff and conserved in times when they should have been the most social. More than a few people noticed their change in attitude around one another. 

One day, Lafayette pulled Alexander aside after a class they had together and asked, quite straightforwardly, “Alexander, everything is okay between John et you?”

Alexander tried to hide his sudden jolt of panic with a hopefully-casual laugh. “Of course everything’s fine! Why do you ask?”

Lafayette shrugged as they walked together down the hall. “You et John...your interactions seem a bit cold, no?”

“No, no, we’re fine,” Alexander reassured in what he hoped was a genuine tone. “He’s actually coming over to my house after school today.”

“Ah.” The answer seemed to satisfy his friend for now. They parted ways and Alexander made his way to his next class, which happened to have John in it. They nodded a greeting to each other and began class. 

What Alexander had told Lafayette hadn’t been a complete lie, of course; John _was_ coming over to his house after school that day. All their friends seemed to pick up after school activities now that the school year was well underway. Lafayette had his cheer practice; Hercules was balancing football and fashion; Aaron was still head lawyer in the Mock Trial Club. Alexander moved down a peg in the Mock Trial Club as a secondary lawyer, which gave him a bit more freetime to himself. Of course, all that extra time was devoted to spending free afternoons with John. Several days a week, while everyone else was working or in clubs, the two would walk to Alexander’s house and spend time together. 

Their meetings usually played out the same way. Once behind closed doors, the boys were finally able to drop their acts. All the tensions they felt during the day dissipated as they hungrily explored each other's bodies and tested boundaries. At first, John would very shyly and quickly smooch the other boy. Each of their faces would be left slightly red at the new experience, but John would often laugh at how giddy he felt finally being able to be so close to Alexander. 

Recently, however, their meetings became a bit more heated. John and Alexander became steadily more comfortable with one another, and in doing so, became much braver as well. Their kisses grew longer and deeper; their hands were left to roam around the other’s body. It wasn’t unexpected for Alexander to feel John’s hands trailing across his chest underneath his shirt while they kissed. 

The new sensations they felt during their meetings became something both boys desperately looked forward to during their dreary days. It seemed all the yearning they bottled up during the school day was finally able to be released at once in their frantic and increasingly heated sessions. 

So, Alexander’s interactions with John were much more than ‘fine’, as he had told Lafayette. They certainly were different, and more passionate than when they were just friends. Now that they were….well, what _were_ they, exactly? The question bugged Alexander after his little talk with Lafayette. _What are we?_

After school that day, he and John began walking toward his house, as usual. That day, however, John walked a tad faster, like he was rushing to get to the house. As soon as Alexander closed the front door behind them, John was already on top of him, lips mashed against his. Alexander laughed a bit at the surprising amount of eagerness John exhibited. He dropped his backpack to the ground, and they made their way to a couch. 

Alexander sat down, expecting John to sit beside him like he normally did. Instead, John placed one knee on each side of him, nearly sitting in Alexander's lap. Dipping his head down, he brought Alexander into a deep kiss by tilting his head up. Alexander changed positions to sitting on the couch the longways so John had more room above him. 

“I have had the shittiest day,” John grumbled between kisses, his hands helping support his weight near Alexander’s head. Alexander could only mumble his condolences. He tried to stay focused on the boy currently making out with him. He felt how thick and curly John’s hair was as he ran his fingers through it. Pulling his hair a bit to get free, he felt the slight vibration on his lips as John purred in response. Alexander closed his eyes and tried to simply enjoy the pleasurable sensation, but he was still snagged on his question earlier that day. _What are we?_

After a couple minutes, John’s kisses slowed to a halt. Alexander opened his eyes groggily and stared back at John, only centimeters from his face. His arms had gotten tired, so now he just lay on top of his chest. “Are you okay?” He murmured quietly, worry flashing in his eyes. “You seem a bit disinterested; we - we can stop if you want.”

Alexander gave a reassuring smile and brought him back into a kiss. “I’m absolutely fine,” he mumbled, but pulled away after a few seconds. “Did you want to talk about your bad day?”

John looked down for a moment. “I’d...rather not. This is much more enjoyable.”

Alexander could not argue with that. Pushing his own worries out of his mind, he chuckled and pulled John closer.

###### 

“A _Halloween_ party?” Alexander repeated. “Eliza, we’re seniors this year. Don’t you think we may be a little too old for that?”

Eliza laughed. They were currently sitting at their lunch table with the rest of their group. “Maybe so,” she answered with a smile. “But admit it, it sounds pretty fun, right?”

“Oui, sounds fun,” Lafayette agreed. John also hesitantly consented, to which Eliza turned a triumphant expression to Alexander. 

“But the 31st is on a _Wednesday_ ,” he brought up, crossing his arms. “Unless we’re also planning to skip the next day, I don’t think your party can be too wild into the night.”

Eliza rolled her eyes, but her smile stayed fixed in place, accentuating her high cheekbones. “ _Fine,_ we’ll do it the weekend before. Then we can be as wild as she want,” she added with a wink. Alexander felt his cheeks turn a bit warm, and he glanced at John, who only pretended not to see anything. 

As they continued to converse, they decided to have the party at the Schuyler’s house the Saturday before Halloween. After a small debate, they agreed to make it a costume party. Each person in the group was assigned with a job to help make the party happen. Alexander’s duty was to convince Aaron to go. 

“A _Halloween_ party?” Aaron repeated when Alexander brought up the invitation to him that night. “Aren’t we a bit old for that?”

“I had the same reaction,” Alexander laughed. They were currently washing the dishes they had used for dinner in the kitchen sink. “But, it seemed like the others really wanted to do it,” he reasoned, pausing to rinse a plate in the water. “Eliza mentioned it could be one of the last times we’re all able to hang out, since graduation is coming up.”

Aaron finally nodded in agreement. “Alright...it could be fun. Speaking of, have you started thinking about you want to do after graduation?”

Alexander spent a few moments turning the question over in his mind as he washed the dishes. He knew Aaron had been searching and drafting college applications fervently the past few months, but he couldn’t bring himself to put the same enthusiasm in his search. While Aaron was clearly excited for his future, Alexander dreaded it. Without high school, he and John would no longer be able to have the easy access to one another they had greatly enjoyed the past few months. In addition, if they were accepted into different colleges, they would be forced to split to different cities, or even different _states_ , or even -- the entire thinking process of the future stressed Alexander out. He knew it stressed John out as well because he would always change the topic of their future whenever it came up. Usually, this was done by over-enthusiastic makeout sessions, which thoroughly ended whatever stressful conversation they were having. 

“Uhm, a bit,” was what he finally told Aaron. “I’m getting my applications done for the December 31st deadline.” Okay, not a total lie. True, he hadn’t really begun any of the applications, but could undoubtedly have them completed before the deadline. 

Aaron nodded a bit while he dried some glasses. “I was thinking about attending college back in New York.” He paused. “If you got accepted, would you go back to New York?”

“That’s...far,” was all Alexander managed to say while his mind raced. New York was all the way across the country. He still wasn’t sure what John’s plans were after graduation, but if he were to attend an in-state college, distance would certainly be a big factor in _their_ future. 

The other boy noticed his hesitancy, and shrugged. “It’s fine. We have time to think it over.” They finished drying the dishes in silence. He allowed his mind to wander back to the party as they washed their hands. “Would you mind if I bring Theodosia to the Halloween party?" Aaron entreated. "I think she’d like it."

“Yeah, that’d be great!” Alexander smiled genuinely. It would be the first time any of them met Aaron’s girlfriend.

“Cool,” Aaron mirrored his expression. “Are you...going to come with John?” 

“What? Yeah - I mean, all our friends were planning to go, and John is one of them,” Alexander replied too quickly. Both him and John (though, a little bit more John) were compelled to keep what they were doing a secret from everyone - including Aaron. Alexander, especially, wasn’t too confident in how nicely Aaron would react to learning how he and John had made out with one another on the kitchen counter he was currently leaning against. 

Aaron studied Alexander. “But you and John..?” he trailed off, leaving the ending open to fill. 

_Shit--_ “We’re ah, still friends,” Alexander answered slowly. _Partly true…_

“Have you talked anymore about how you guys feel?” Aaron lowered his volume slightly as their adoptive father passed through the room. 

Alexander wrung his hands nervously. “Yeah, oh yeah, we talk; we talk a lot.” _Okay, total lie_ , he cursed himself for being so bad at fibbing. Luckily, Aaron decided not to question his weird behavior. They parted to do their own things for the evening. 

###### 

The final group attending the Halloween party was Alexander, Aaron, Theodosia, John, Lafayette, Hercules, and the Schuyler sisters. Aaron and Alexander drove their car while the other boys carpooled together to the Schuyler residence just outside the city. The brothers were the first to arrive. As they exited their car, they gazed up in amazement at the Schuyler’s house - which could be better described as a mansion. 

“Makes you wonder why they’re registered in the public school system,” Alexander mumbled in awe as they walked to the front door, which was accompanied by two large pillars on either sides. An excited Peggy opened the door for them. They were a bit taken aback by her costume, which was surprisingly gory for such a sweet girl. 

With her large amount of curly hair tugged back in a high ponytail, her entire face was painted white; dark black circles were painted around her eyes and patterns similar to Day of the Dead skulls painted on her cheeks and forehead. The gory part, however, was her mouth, which was painted to look like her face had split open. She was dressed in a small poofy black dress with black stockings, and managed to make quite an impression with her makeup. 

Aaron and Alexander entered the giant house and looked around them in wonderment. The inside of the house almost looked regal. Everything was carefully polished and dusted, and a large staircase lay in front of them. 

“Hey, glad you guys made it!” Eliza called excitedly to them as she stepped in from another room. A dazzling smile played across her face, and Alexander reflected it in his relief to see her costume. Unlike her sister, Eliza had a much more neutral costume. With an all-black outfit and a hairband with a couple cat ears attached, she was just a simple black cat. She clapped her hands as she got closer, admiring their own costumes. “Oh, you guys are so cute!” she exclaimed, studying Aaron’s red and black cape and white dress shirt. “Are you...Dracula?”

Aaron nodded and looked smugly at Alexander. “Try to guess what he is.”

Alexander just glared at him while Eliza attempted to decipher his costume. To be fair, he wasn’t dressed as a specific character. He had a large pair of square glasses resting on his nose, and was only wearing a form fitting suit he bought during the summer. 

Eliza looked genuinely confused. “Are you….a nerd?” she asked quietly, which made Aaron laugh loudly. 

“I told you no one would get your costume!”

“Shut it,” Alexander growled. Turning to Eliza, however, he kept a smile as he fished in his coat pockets and pulled out a calculator, several pens, and a large stress ball. “I’m a stockbroker,” he explained. 

“Oh!” Eliza laughed, but she looked less impressed than he would have liked. “Well, make yourselves at home! I was thinking we could start the party once more people come.” The two acquiesced and joined Peggy in one of the house’s living room. 

Within twenty minutes, the other boys arrived together. John was in a baseball player costume, his cap making his curly hair extra fluffy where the it ended. Hercules was dressed as Tim Gunn from Project Runway, and Lafayette wore a cheerleading uniform. He did not, however, wear _his_ cheerleading uniform; he borrowed a skirt from one of his fellow teammates. The short garment fit surprisingly well over his slim figure, which they agreed was actually a good look for him. 

Within another ten minutes, Aaron’s girlfriend arrived at the house. With much anticipation, Aaron finally introduced Theodosia to his friends. It immediately made sense why he liked her so much. Even while dressed as Dracula’s wife, they could tell that she was quite beautiful, with an even better personality. Contrasting from the cold behavior Aaron usually exhibited around others, with Theodosia, he actually seemed to open up. It was the most relaxed John had ever seen Aaron. He hoped that he and Alexander could reach that same level of comfortableness when in public together. However, it was clear that that was a very farfetched dream. 

Because they worked to keep their interactions a secret from their friends, they awkwardly tried not to pay each other any attention while at the same time trying to inconspicuously be closer to one another. With all the action and conversation during the party, their friends fortunately did not notice their odd behaviors. 

The party had an abundance of activities for the teenagers to play. From karaoke to charades, the energy was kept quite high. As the night dragged on longer and longer, they all suffered from the giddiness only sleep deprivation could bring. When Peggy finally had to turn in for the night, Eliza pulled out an empty glass Coca Cola bottle. “You know what time it is now,” she told the group mischievously, sitting cross legged on the floor. 

“Ooh!” Lafayette and Hercules excitedly leapt up to join their hostess on the floor with the bottle. The rest were a bit more hesitant. 

_Oh God,_ John thought. He knew spin-the-bottle games rarely ended well. Looking over at Alexander, he saw that he was just as uncomfortable with the idea.

Aaron, his arm around Theodosia, laughed from his position on the couch. “I think we’ll pass.”

Eliza rolled her eyes good-heartedly. “Alright, couples get to sit out,” she smiled.

John felt a shot of panic course through him, and he forced himself to join the other teenagers on the floor. Alexander slowly followed suit. 

“Alright, here are the rules,” Eliza explained in a clear voice, laying the bottle on its side in the center of their circle. “We’re gonna do a _clean_ game of truth-or-dare.” Lafayette dramatically groaned in protest while Hercules drummed his fingers together in excitement. She pulled up a truth-or-dare app on her phone. “This app randomizes what you have to do, or say. You only get one spin per turn, and no do-overs. You all ready?”

The group agreed, and John tried to push down his dread. What he was dreading - he didn’t quite know, though. 

The game started off simple enough. Those who chose “Truth” were forced to tell the others their most embarrassing secret, or the weird things they do when they’re alone. With long bouts of laughter, they learned that Hercules once ripped his pants at school, and his first time sewing was sewing his pants back together. They also learned that when Lafayette was alone, he would practice astoundingly fast, tongue-twisting raps to improve his pronunciation of English words.

Lafayette was also dared to put on lipstick and leave a red kiss mark on the cheek of the person next to him. He readily smooched Hercules on his cheek using Eliza’s lipstick, which left a big smudge on his face and the group in a fit of laughter. Wiping the rest of the makeup off with his arm, Lafayette spun the bottle and landed on Alexander, who chose “Dare”. 

“Give your best pick-up line to the person across from you,” Lafayette read off Eliza’s phone.

John felt slightly disappointed to realize that the hostess herself was sitting directly across from Alexander instead of him. Though, he tried to keep his expression neutral while Alexander tried to think of a good line to give Eliza. Clearing his throat, he leaned forward across the circle and took her hand dramatically.

“Now, Eliza...I’m not a photographer,” he stared intently into her eyes and she giggled. “But I can definitely picture us together.”

Even John found himself laughing with the rest of the group at Alexander’s cheesiness. Eliza giggled again, but challenged him all the same. “That was weak!”

“‘Weak’?” Alexander laughed. “You do better then.”

A smirk appeared on Eliza’s face. She cupped a hand over Alexander’s ear and whispered something inaudible into them. All John saw was Alexander carefully listening and then his eyes going wide as his face turned a bright red at Eliza’s words. Alexander could barely laugh in the shock as he leaned back to his original spot in the circle while Eliza continued to triumphantly snicker. 

The game continued while the disappointment John felt earlier manifested itself into a hard rock of jealousy. To make Alexander that flustered - that was something only _he_ could do. It felt like Eliza had unknowingly taken a part of their special relationship away. Try as hard as he might, John was unable to really get invested back in the game after that. What he really felt like doing was getting as far away as possible from her so that he could stop his growing sense of jealousy. After a couple more minutes, he feigned a couple yawns and rubbed his eyes sleepily.

“Ah, mon amie, you are tired?” Lafayette noticed. He looked a bit disappointed and John felt a pang of guilt for making their game end early. Hercules and Lafayette made a move to get up from the floor to drive him home, but Alexander stopped them. 

“Hey, I could take John back,” he suggested. John felt a bud of gratitude stem from his jealousness. “I’m feeling a bit tired myself, and you guys seem to be having fun. Would you be able to ride home with someone else, Aaron?” Alexander asked behind them and Aaron nodded. “Thank you for the lovely party,” Alexander praised Eliza, standing up to hug her. “It was a lot of fun.”

“Glad you guys enjoyed yourselves!” Eliza waved to them as they made their way back to the front door. “Drive home safe!”

John put on his best smile to say goodbye with, but it dropped once he and Alexander exited the house. They made it to Alexander’s car quietly and drove off with radio music the only noise between them. With his thoughts occupied, John just placed a hand on Alexander’s leg while he drove, the silence between them only growing tauter as the drive continued. 

A million conversations cycled through John’s head. He was mad at Eliza for having made Alexander so flustered over whatever comment she said to him. He was mad at Alexander for becoming so flustered, and even agreeing to play the game in the first place. He was mad at himself for being mad at his own friends. The worst part, however, was that John couldn’t even define what he was jealous of. It wasn’t as if anyone had any clue about them, so it wasn’t like Eliza was actively trying to hurt him. Their relationship certainly was not any form of official. Plus, that was another thing John couldn’t define: their relationship. Whenever his thoughts dwelled on that issue, he forcibly diverted himself to not think about it yet. Instead of thinking, he just _did_ , and focused on Alexander himself. 

In every way, Alexander was an incredibly good distraction from all his problems and anxieties endlessly piling up. It was just so much easier to kiss him than deal with the looming issues in his life. He supposed he was just mad at Eliza because he wanted Alexander all to himself. And Lord, did he want him right now. However, they were driving, and he was smart enough to not distract the driver from focusing on the road. Who knew what kinds of accidents could happen with a distracted driver.

After an eternity, Alexander reached John’s house. It was already 2 in the morning. John’s family was fast asleep, so he invited Alexander inside. They silently crept through John’s house toward his room. Alexander went inside and sat on John’s bed while he quietly closed the door behind them. 

“Hey, you were acting a little strange during that last game,” Alexander whispered. John took off his baseball cap and ran his hand through his hair, joining him on the bed. 

_Fuck, I don’t want to talk about this now; I’ve thought about it enough already._ “I’m sorry,” John whispered back, wrapping his arms over his shoulders and bringing him into a kiss. 

The kiss lasted just a few seconds before Alexander pulled away. “Are you mad at me?” he asked quietly.

“No, I’m not mad,” John growled lowly. _I_ really _don’t want to talk about this anymore. I need to distract him,_ he decided, setting one leg on each side of Alexander and sitting on his lap. Grabbing the tie that was part of his costume, he pulled him into a deeper kiss. 

Alexander struggled a bit more to pull himself away from that one. Annoyance flashed in John’s expression as he loomed over him. “Because you definitely didn’t look okay,” he continued, reluctantly removing his hands from John’s waist. “John, why can’t we talk about this?” he implored with a bit more volume and command. 

John groaned inwardly in frustration and pulled on Alexander’s tie a bit more forcefully than he intended. “Alexander, I need you to shut up right now and just kiss me,” he commanded. Their lips barely met before Alexander pushed him off. They sat apart on the bed again, John’s heart rate quickening in both anger and dread.

“No, John, you do this all the time,” Alexander hissed. “I try to hold important conversations with you and you think kissing it away is the perfect solution!” 

John grabbed his wrist. “Well I’m sorry if I just want to _enjoy_ the few moments we have alone! It--”

The bedroom door clicked open and John quickly retreated his hands back to his own space. Henry Laurens, having just woken up, stood in the doorway, looking in at his son and Alexander sitting, wide-eyed, red-faced, hair-tussled, on the bed together. “Jack, you are home late,” he stated in a flat tone. 

John swallowed slightly, eyes not leaving his father. “Yes, sir; I’m sorry.”

Henry Laurens turned to the other boy with a tight line for a mouth. “Alexander, your family is perhaps awaiting your arrival.”

Alexander immediately got the hint and curtly nodded, quickly exiting John’s room and house. John was left alone with a sick feeling of anxiety and guilt, watching him leave.

###### 

The next few days passed by a bit awkwardly. The two boys were still mostly silent to one another during class, but the tension between them threatened to tear them apart rather than pull them together. On a day when Alexander was free, John asked if he could come over to his house - the asking for permission differed from his usually automatic visit.

The atmosphere between the two had shifted since the night of the party. When they entered the house, there was no frantic kissing or grabbing; no sudden release of tension from the day. Instead, John - looking quite sullen - entered quietly and sat down on a couch with Alexander.

John purposefully attempted to avoid any physical contact with the other boy by hugging his knees close to himself in one corner of the couch. He looked so pathetic - Alexander felt compelled to just comfort him, though he was still frustrated with the impossibility of them talking.

After a few moments of silence, John raised his eyes from the ground. “How are you doing, Alexander?”

The other boy looked at him in surprise. It had been the first time John initiated a conversation in weeks. “I'm fine,” he replied.

John nodded absentmindedly, but followed it up with a distasteful face. “No...I don't think you're ‘fine’,” he challenged. “Why do we keep saying we're fine when we're clearly not?” He paused for the answer to his rhetorical question. “I'm sorry - I just need to make the most of our time -” he reached for Alexander hand, but the other boy pulled away.

“Do you think talking is a waste of time?” Alexander asked, feeling his frustration over the past few days spike again. 

“No, I'm not saying that,” John backtracked. “I'm just...trying to make up for the past 3 years of inaction. I don't know how long we'll have time…” His crestfallen expression made Alexander soften a bit. “My father..he kinda tore into me that night. Pretty loudly, too; he woke up most of my siblings. Anyways, he's been thinking a lot about moving back to South Carolina this year, and this whole thing,” he gestured between them, “may have sealed his decision.”

Alexander face fell. “Why didn't you tell me?”

The other boy shrugged helplessly. “Like I said, the only thing we've done the past few years was talk. I just wanted to...I dunno, _do._ ”

“Yeah, well just _'doing'_ isn't the most sustainable thing.”

“I know, I know,” John sighed. “I guess I knew it was inevitable my father would be nonplussed if he ever found out about us. Did I ever tell you why I moved back to the U.S. from England? He made our entire family pack up because I was becoming ‘too flamboyant’ around the other boys in my school, and after what happened with Jemmy, he thought I was becoming ‘too distracted’ over them. I just want to make the most of the time we have here together...”

A heavy silence sank between the boys like an anchor to a ship. Like an anchored ship, the conversation slowed and wavered for a few moments. In those moments, Alexander couldn't help feeling anger rise in his chest. He should be frustrated with John's father's unwillingness to accept his son for who he is; for not even trying to understand or respond appropriately. Try as he might, however, he mostly felt anger toward John.

John Laurens - who toppled Charles Lee in a single glorious punch; who was so passionate in proving Angelica’s innocence - was an absolute coward in the presence of his father. In every interaction the two had, Alexander noted how John’s eyes would become glued to the floor; how his tone modified to lack any emotion; how scared he was whenever he talked to his father.

To be fair, Henry Laurens was an intimidating force of nature. But to be constantly bullied and pushed by him without any attempt of resistance was pitiful. Alexander wanted to tell John to take a deep breath, look his father in the eyes, and firmly say, 'No. I will _not_ tolerate this type of life anymore.'

He wondered if John’s home life had always been that unaccepting, or if things had gone downhill after his mother's passing. He wondered if Henry Laurens was even aware of the Hell he was putting his son through, or if this was all part of his well-intentioned, albeit not well-executed, way of protecting him.

However, Alexander asked John none of these thoughts running through his head. With the release of a very deep sigh, the anchor of silence lifted and the conversation’s ship sailed on. “Well...at least we're talking now,” he laid a hand on John’s knee to hopefully lure him out of his cocoon. “How long do we have before you move?”

Another helpless shrug from John. “I suppose whenever my father decides to--” a ringing alarm from his phone cut him off short and Alexander retracted his hand at the sudden sound. “Ah - shit, I should go now.”

“You set an alarm?” Alexander asked as John hastily stood up and fished in his pocket for the phone, the disappointment in his voice barely hidden.

He now followed John back to the front door. “Uhm, yeah,” he stumbled over his words and the welcome mat. “It's set to give me enough time to get home before my father does,” he explained in a rush. Alexander felt powerless watching him hastily slipping away from him. Another wave of anger washed over him, but he held his mouth in a tight line so as to not betray his true feelings. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school,” John added quickly as he opened the door to leave. After a moment’s hesitation, he stopped and turned around to give the other boy a quick kiss. However, the force of the impact was too strong, and Alexander found himself grimacing as their teeth painfully clinked. In another blink, John was already out the door and dashing down the street.

###### 

The days in which John and Alexander were able to be together were few and far between. Thanks mostly to the pushing of John’s other siblings, his father agreed it would be detrimental to move the entire family across the country in the middle of the school year. However, the decision was still delicate, so John was still anxious about spending time with Alexander, in case Henry Laurens might reverse his decision. 

As the new year began, neither boy was too happy about their circumstances. If they were at last able to talk alone, John felt antsy and restless to use their short amount of time to do something more physical with one another. On the other side, when they did end up being physically affectionate, he always noticed Alexander holding back. In the end, neither boy would be very satisfied.

To account for their dissatisfaction, each boy turned to their own distractions. John drew and painted more and more. On days he couldn't be with Alexander, he locked himself in his room and furiously beat brush to canvas; pencil to paper. Dark, expressive, and almost inconceivable pieces came into fruition. His art teacher couldn't have been happier to see him take a more abstract and expressive route in his art, but he was the only one who knew the real intention behind his work. 

His work only grew darker when his father told him he had enrolled him in South Carolina’s community college with neither his permission nor his knowledge. All the applications to art schools John had been working on for the past few months were thrown out the window. 

“He says that ‘art doesn't give people futures’,” John had explained to Alexander after he discovered what his father had done. They were only able to meet before school that day, so they were sitting on a bench, talking in low voices as other students milled about through the hallway.

For fear of other students becoming suspicious, Alexander could only give John a half hug; an interaction that could have been viewed as platonic from any passerby looking in. John forced himself to not sink into his touch, and the first bell rang before anything more could have been done or said.

The only way John was able to tolerate his increasingly intolerable home life was to begrudgingly accept what was happening. _I've survived so many years so far; I can make it through two more, right?... Right?_ The thought continued to buzz around his mind during the next couple months.

To deal with his own loneliness and dissatisfaction, Alexander took to writing. For the past three years they had known each other, John knew the other boy wrote daily in the same notebook, Over the years, the cover and lined pages of the book became beaten up and extremely well-worn, but Alexander, for whatever sentimental reason, continued to use the same one. What exactly he was writing about, John hadn't the slightest clue, though he had a strong suspicion the notebook held a collection of rants. Alexander's habit of bringing out the notebook and scribbling in a couple more paragraphs during class or in breaks died down a bit after they began to express their affections, but resurged greatly in the recent months. 

Fortunately, something did come from Alexander's frantic writing sessions. Springtime soon rolled around the corner, and like flowers sprouting after a long wintery wait, results from college applications popped up after the excruciating months of pending statuses. 

Aaron, Alexander, and Eliza all got accepted into Columbia University in New York. Because they figured college life would be much easier if they knew at least some of the incoming classmates, all three opted to attend the college in the upcoming Fall. Alexander told John all this in a hurried, excited rush over the phone as he and Aaron were driving home from a mock trial meeting.

“That is so amazing!” John exclaimed into his phone once he received the news. It was the first time he - or Alexander, for that matter - felt any emotion above dissatisfaction or stress.

“I know; we’re all pretty excited,” Alexander continued to gush as Aaron navigated through the streets at the wheel. It had been raining for the past few hours, but he felt too light-hearted over the news to be very nervous over the weather. Plus, thanks to the help from John, his fear of storms had decreased significantly over the years. He turned and spoke in a lower voice into the speaker. “And, uh, that also means we would be closer to each other after this year as well.”

John felt his cheeks begin to glow. It had never occurred to him that where Alexander would attend college would also dictate if they would be close or far from one another in the next few years. The fact that Alexander had not only _thought_ of it, but also made sure they would be closer in the coming years made him grateful and forever indebted to his thoughtfulness. “That is really great,” he laughed, not caring for a moment who heard him. “I can't wait!”

Alexander pressed his phone closer to his head and couldn't stop the grin creeping it's way onto his face. He attributed his faster heart rate to be in response to John's support rather than to the increasing pitter-patter of the rain on the car’s windshield. He was about to say more but a low, sustained beep from the car’s radio made him falter. “Uhm, I'm sorry, John, I have to call you back,” he mumbled as Aaron turned up the volume on the radio.

Half a second passed with no sound. The radio, absent of music, and the brothers, absent of breath, awaited whatever was to happen. It was an experience the entire city went through a couple times every year, just from the virtue of being near a river that over-flowed easily. Finally, the dreaded words came through the speakers.

 _ **“This is the emergency broadcast system,”**_ the flat male voice announced. _**“Due to heavy rainfalls and melting snow, Skagit County is now under flood warning. Homes in Mount Vernon and Burlington may be at risk of flooding. If you are at risk, move yourself to areas outside the flood risk zone.”**_ Aaron and Alexander shared a look of silent fear as the radio played a few low tones. _**“This is the emergency broadcast system,”**_ the voice repeated and Aaron shut off the radio. They were approaching their house now. Even at a distance, they could note the higher level of water on the concrete road.

Their neighborhood, of course, had storm drains on all the streets, so the explosive downpours Washington exhibited did not usually make a giant fish tank of the ground. That time, however, despite the many storm drains, there was a thin layer of water pooling in the streets as Aaron and Alexander got out of the car. It was as if the entire neighborhood had a large, thin puddle laid on top of it.

Staring up at the darkened sky, Alexander flinched as the raindrops hit his face. The male broadcaster’s voice rang in his ears, blocking out all other noise. Their county was under flood warning...his city was in risk of flooding...his home was only a couple miles inland from the Skagit River, in the _middle_ of the flood risk zone. _It’s coming…_ he realized horrendously slowly. “It”, in reference, of course, to one of his greatest fears. For a split second, Alexander was back in the Caribbean; in his small town, almost knocked unconscious from the sudden wall of water. It was all he could do to stay afloat amid all the debris; the sound of screams and splitting wood exploded in his ears; the yellow sky rose through the clouds as he clutched desperately to that one girder that had managed to stay attached; the terrible taste of sea salt and copper blood in his mouth-- 

“ _Alexander,_ ” Aaron now snapped him out of his flashback. His expression looked just as panicked as he felt. “What do we do??”

Alexander’s now-soaked clothes clung to his skin like tape. He could feel the rain and the water on the ground pool into his shoes. _Shit. What do we do. What_ do _we do?!_ He looked around in panic. _I have no fucking clue!_ No matter how hard he willed the rain to stop, it kept coming down in relentless waves. He felt like they were on some movie set with a rainy scene and a very sadistic director. After a half second of panicked silence, he pulled out his phone. _Who can I call?? Augustine and Mary; still at work. But George--_ Without another moment to waste, he called his adoptive older brother. While the call went out, he and Aaron stepped under their home’s roof to escape the rain. 

“Alexander! How’ve you been?” George answered the phone after a few rings. Alexander could hear a jumble of voices talking and muffled music in the background, no doubt at a college party. 

“Hey George,” Alexander swallowed nervously, but wasted no other time. “It’s about to flood here; what do we do?”

The boy on the other side immediately rushed to a quiet area to talk. “Oh my God; where are you right now?”

“We’re at the house - Aaron and I. What do we _do?_ ” he repeated, panic creeping in his voice. 

“Okay; is there water in the streets? How deep is it?”

“About an inch.”

“Alright, you’ve got to be fast,” George commanded quickly, but clearly. “If at any time the water outside rises above half the wheel of the car, leave the house, and do _not - I repeat, do not -_ drive through running water. Now go into the garage and shut the gas off. There’s no water inside the house yet, right? Shut off everything that’s turned on; unplug everything if you have time.” Aaron and Alexander split up to do what they were told; Alexander’s hands shook as he unplugged the final outlet. 

“Okay, what else?” he asked once he and Aaron regrouped. 

“There’s an emergency bag on the top shelf of the closet in the front hall,” George scrunched his eyes, trying to remember where everything was in his old home. His own heart was beating quickly in stress for his brothers’ situation. “Get that. Now go into the bathroom and pack all the medication bottles.” The boys followed his instructions as fast as they could. “Now, grab just a few items of personal value. If it’s too big to easily carry, don’t bring it. Mom’ll kill me if I didn’t tell you, so grab the photo albums in the bookshelf too.” Alexander shouldered the emergency bag as they dashed into their rooms. Aaron shoved his law textbook and laptop into his worn green backpack as Alexander crowded his own bag with his notebook and Mary Ball Washington’s photo album.

“Okay, we got it.”

“Great. Grab boots and more jackets on the way out. How high is the water now?”

Aaron threw their bags into the backseat of the car as Alexander blinked through the rain. “About three inches.”

He heard George intake a sharp breath over the speaker. “Your next job is to go. Get to higher ground,” he commanded. “Are there any friends out of town you can stay with? If so, go to them. If not, the Red Cross has a few safe areas. Listen to the radio for specifics, and again, never drive through deep puddles or across streaming water. I’m going to call Mom and Dad now, but make sure you get out of there safe.”

“Okay. Thank you, George,” Alexander said as he got in the car and hung up the phone. Aaron started the car and they quickly sloshed out of the neighborhood. The collected coolness and command of George calmed and focused them at their tasks, but now in his absence, their panic was able to return. The sloshing of the wheels against the water ceased once Aaron drove up a hill. 

_Who can we stay with?_ Alexander wondered quickly. _Lafayette, Hercules - they’re probably in the same situation as us...oh! Eliza - the Schuylers’ house is outside the city._ “I’m going to call Eliza,” Alexander told Aaron, who was concentrating greatly on the road ahead of them. As he pulled out his phone, another person sprang to his mind. _And John’s house--_ “Shit, John!” he exclaimed; Aaron turned to him in surprise. John’s house, if Alexander remembered correctly, was a little bit further inland, but downhill. If the water was rising this quickly, they would surely be flooded too. Images of his friend’s family flashed before him: one father and _four_ children; the small blue Prius the only vehicle the family owned...there was no way they could all fit. “Aaron, we have to go to John’s house,” Alexander grabbed his brother’s arm desperately.

But Aaron didn’t take his eyes off the road. “Why? George told us to get away from areas in risk; I’m already on the way to the Schuyler’s; John’s is back.”

Alexander felt his stomach drop. “Please,” he pleaded. “We need to go back; he may need our help.”

Aaron looked back and forth from the winding road to his pleading expression. With a defeated sigh, he made a U-turn and drove toward John’s house. Alexander made several attempts to call John, but all failed. Finally, he called Eliza, who told them it was absolutely fine they crashed at her house during the flood. The level of water rose again as they neared John’s house.

Just as Alexander suspected, the family of five were struggling to fit in their small car with all their belongings and supplies. As they pulled up, all the family members stood outside the car, soaked to the bone in the pelting rain as they desperately tried to get everything and everyone to fit. He saw John standing a few feet away with a small glass bowl with his two turtles in one arm and his (currently crying) youngest sister in the other. Aaron parked the car and Alexander leapt out. 

“Mr. Laurens!” He had to shout over the sound of the rain. John’s head shot up at the sound of his voice while Henry Laurens, his face a mixture of annoyance and confusion, turned to him. “Do you have a place to stay in during the flood? Our friend Eliza agreed to take my brother and I in - we could take some of you with us.”

Henry Laurens’ brow furrowed and for a moment; it appeared he would dismiss Alexander and his offer. But the rain continued to pelt his back, and the cold water seeping into his clothes made him rethink his initial decision. Rubbing his head, he said lowly in defeat: “Okay. John, go with them. Martha, you go too,” he directed. John handed his baby sister Mary off to his father and grabbed his backpack off the wet ground. Martha hauled her bags to the car but their father grabbed John’s wet arm before he could do so as well. John expected to see warning in his eyes, but was surprised to see only worry instead. “Be safe, Jack; let me know when you get there.”

His son gave a quick nod and the two stuffed their bags in the trunk of the car. With the switch, the Laurens family were able to fit in their car, and they quickly drove off behind Aaron, Alexander, John, and his sister Martha.

Water splashed away from the tires of the car as they drove through the streets. The windshield wipers - on the highest setting now - matched the steady, fast beating of the teenagers’ hearts. The seats they sat on were slowly becoming soaked through as the water transferred from the cloth on their clothes to the cloth of the seats. John, who cradled his turtles’ temporary tank against his chest, sat behind Alexander, who held his backpack close to his chest. Once the adrenaline had finished coursing through his body, Alexander was left cold and scared. The panic and rain in the air brought back all too-familiar images of the hurricane. 

At long last, they reached the outskirts of the city and arrived at the Schuyler’s house. They hurriedly grabbed their belongings from the car and dodged the rain as they reached the front door. Eliza ushered them inside and all four teenagers finally stood under the safe roof, turning the dry floor inside quickly into a wet one. With Peggy’s help, they each received a towel, which helped reduce the shivering in three of them. Alexander shakily reached for the proffered towel, but struggled with actually grasping it. It was then that Eliza noticed the shape he was in.

“Oh my God, Alexander, you’re so pale!” she exclaimed, rushing over to him. John looked over from where he was helping dry Martha’s hair. “Are you alright?”

Though Alexander could hear Eliza’s voice, he couldn’t process her words. Brought on by the clap of thunder outside, the orchestration of chaos reached a crescendo in his ears. Flinching involuntarily at Eliza’s touch, his shaking and rate of breathing increased as tried to hold his head in his unsteady hands. 

John recognized the signs of Alexander’s panic attacks. “Do you have a room that’s really quiet?” he snapped Eliza out of her confused state.

“Yeah, the bathroom; the first door up the stairs.” Before she could finish answering, John was already half-carrying, half-dragging Alexander up to the room. 

The room was big for a bathroom. He didn’t have time to revel in the surprising grandeur before Alexander collapsed on the floor and hugged his knees to his chest, face buried into his thighs. John closed the door behind them; the room muffling most of the noise outside. The distant pitter-patter of the rain against the house was the only thing in John’s ears besides the pulsing of his own heart. He dropped to his knees and gently draped his towel over the other boy’s quivering shoulders. 

“Alexander?” John entreated quietly, carefully laying on hand on his arm. “Alexander? Alex,” he spoke a bit louder, shaking his arm. After much prodding, his eyes finally raised to meet his; his cheeks tear-stained and expression that of a feral animal. “Oh, Alexander,” John’s voice caught in his throat; he couldn’t stand seeing him so distressed. With more coaxing, he was able to bring his face completely above his knees, though his eyes were still distant. With tears still streaming from Alexander’s eyes, John pushed the hair out of his face and brought him into a kiss. The breath against his face became a bit steadier, so John began quietly saying their counting exercise. Their foreheads pressed together, John had to go through the exercise a couple times before Alexander grew calm enough to join. Aaron had been watching the entire interaction from the slightly ajar door. 

He had sucked in his breath in surprise at John’s kiss, but hadn’t revealed his position. With a sigh of relief, he saw Alexander finally become responsive again. Eliza joined him at the doorframe as they began counting together. 

“What are they doing?” she whispered to Aaron, looking in at the boys on the ground. She wasn’t extremely close friends with John; it was the first time she actually saw the boy so close to anyone - let alone that patient and focused. 

“A little counting exercise. It helps get Alexander through storms,” Aaron answered. It was the first time he saw how close the two were as well. 

To Eliza, it sounded more like the exercises she was taught when she was learning how to play piano. She figured it just must have multiple uses. At that moment, Alexander felt steady enough to get back on his feet. John kept his arm under his in support as they turned to the two in the doorway. “Are you alright?” Eliza inquired again.

This time, Alexander slowly nodded, though he didn’t trust to use his voice just yet. They exited the bathroom, and Eliza led them to a few guest bedrooms they could stay in during the flood. The rest of the evening, the teenagers got settled in their temporary rooms, called their families to let them know they were safe, and changed into warm, dry clothes. At last, the long day was over. Aaron and Alexander settled in their room for the night, and John and Martha went in the other. About an hour after he was sure everyone had fallen asleep, Alexander surreptitiously crept from his room to the one that the other pseudo-refugees were using.

“John?” he called softly into the room. The boy in question lifted his head ever so slightly from the bed he was laying in across the room, but it was enough for Alexander to know where to go. John sat up in the bed as he crept to his side. “John...do you mind if I stay with you for a little while?” Both the question and his small expression were childlike in nature. 

John moved over a bit on the twin bed to make room for Alexander, who gladly climbed in under the covers. There, he at last felt safe. Despite being dry and under a protected roof, he had continued to feel uneasy as the rain continued to beat down, but now, as he faced John in the dark, he could breath.

They laid down on the pillows, facing one another, though it was difficult to distinguish the different facial features of the other in the darkness. Alexander breathed in John's scent in content as he was pressed against his chest in a tight hug. He only meant to stay with John for just a few minutes, but ended up, warm and secure in the boy's safe hold, falling asleep until the morning.

To much of his surprise and relief, the normal nightmares he was plagued with on stormy nights were replaced with pleasant and idyllic dreams. He awoke, still in John's arms, and tried to slip away without notice. John stirred, however, and kept his arms firmly in their place around him.

“Don't go yet,” he pleaded sleepily. “Please jus’...stay a bit longer…”

There was nothing Alexander wanted more, but he glanced anxiously at Martha’s bed just a few yards away. “You don't want your sister to see us, right?”

To his surprise, John only pulled him closer to his chest. “Alexander, I don't care if she - or anyone else - sees us right now. I just want to be with you.” 

The sentiment and truth in his eyes almost moved Alexander to tears. With a great sigh of content, he burrowed his head back under John’s chin and closed his eyes.

###### 

It was a few weeks before those whose homes were flooded could return. Usually when faced with disaster, Alexander’s life undoubtedly turned to shit. Miraculously, in the weeks spent in the Schuyler residence with the other stranded teens, his life was pleasantly … not shitty. Even though their home was most likely partly submerged in water, everything was not completely terrible. The teenagers tried to make the most out of the unfortunate events. Alexander managed to be happy on most the days, though the stormy nights proved almost insurmountable. On those nights, he and John would sneak into each other’s bedrooms for comfort. While they were extremely careful to not be seen, Alexander doubted that Martha - John’s delightfully sassy sister with as much spunk in her personality as curls on her head - was completely clueless to her brother’s affections. 

Finally, the flood waters cleared and those stranded were allowed to return to their water-logged homes. Fortunately, they did have homes to go back to, despite half the houses containing ruined furniture and soggy walls. It took another few months to repair the damages, but in the meantime, they were forced back to school to finish up the year. 

Even the water flowing through the streets couldn’t stop the American school system tradition of Senior Prom. It was the epitome of high school; a rite of passage, even, for those graduating. At least, that was how Lafayette described the dance to Alexander when he expressed disinterest in going. 

“Mon amie, you will not regret going,” he commended Alexander once he finally convinced him to go over the phone. “Who will you ask to the dance?”

“Eliza, I think,” he answered after a pause. _And John will ask Peggy._ That was their usual dance-group pairing, if only for him and John to have an excuse to be together those nights. 

Lafayette nodded in agreement, though the other couldn’t see over the phone. “I believe I will ask Hercules.”

Alexander took a few seconds to blink in surprise, but it only translated to an awkward silence on the phone. “R-really?”

“Of course, ‘really’,” Lafayette chuckled. “He is a good friend! I believe he will want to go with me as well. I am not interested in asking anyone else.” 

_He makes it look so easy,_ Alexander thought in amazement, his mind immediately trailing back to John. “That’s great!” he congratulated him on his fearlessness. “Let me know how it goes.”

“You too, Alexander. Goodbye.”

Alexander hung up his phone and sat back, still stunned. _Was it really that easy? If I like John, should I just ask him? But ask what; to go to the prom? Or to cut this in-between shit and just be...my_ boyfriend? He paused to fantasize that glorious future, but several elements blocked it from becoming reality. For one, there was John’s father - even Alexander didn’t want to cross him. Also, they would be a few states apart next year; how committed were they? But on the other hand, he was also getting extremely tired of where they were in a relationship. It had been 8 months, and they still couldn’t define what they were. Then again, neither boy ever really brought up that conversation.

 _And it’s not completely just because we’re both boys,_ Alexander argued. _Lafayette has enough courage to ask another boy to prom. Hell, if he can do it, we can do it!_ But he had to remind himself their relationships weren’t the same. He _needed_ John in his life. If there was any risk that would cause him to not be there, then he was more than willing to play it safe. _I can’t afford to lose John…_ was always the statement that concluded Alexander’s back-and-forth arguing with himself. 

So, Alexander didn’t ask John to prom. Instead, they stuck to the original, safe plan: he asked Eliza while John asked Peggy. Lafayette, however, took a risk and asked Hercules in his usual grand and dramatic style. Hercules’ football pals - who were already hassling him for turning down a sports scholarship to Gonzaga to attend FIDM instead - saw his acceptance to the promposal as just another opportunity to heckle him. Alexander and John watched in amazement as Hercules and Lafayette only responded with a huge _fuck you!_ to the bullies. 

As the fateful night approached, they finished assembling their prom group, and made all the necessary preparations (or, at least all the preparations Eliza, the head of the group, deemed necessary.) Like many other schools in Western Washington State, their prom took place in Seattle. 

Also like many other prom nights, Alexander - ever the cynic - thought the whole event was over-hyped and over-thought. The decorations in the large hall and being able to spend time with his friends were enjoyable, but how much fun could one possibly have while awkwardly dancing to Tonight by the Black Eyed Peas for the third time?

 _This shouldn't be our legacy to high school,_ he grumbled to himself, just now realizing how close they were to the end of the four year run. But what could he do? Sneak out and explore the big city they were in for the night? _Actually, that's a great idea,_ he praised himself as he planned his escape. Fortunately, their dates made the execution of the plan easier.

Peggy was a bit nervous to be in the city (“Daddy said not to go downtown,” she queasily reminded Eliza during the dance), so she and her sister left the dance early. It didn't take much to convince John, Lafayette, and Hercules to leave the dance to explore the city. John would take any excuse to spend time with the other, and the other two boys were increasingly becoming sick of the taunts thrown at them during the dance. An hour before midnight, the four teens exited the hall and stepped onto the streets of Seattle.

Seattle was like the cultural capital of Washington State. Alexander felt disappointed he wasn't able to visit the port city more often. Though, it were times like this, with his friends by his side, that made him glad to be in the moment. Almost like a Christmas tree, the city glittered in light and extravagance before them. Staring up at the enormous Space Needle, Alexander sneakily wove his fingers with John's, and wished to stay in the moment forever.

It had been a wild four years together. In less than a week, they would graduate. In the coming months, Alexander would have to trade the Space Needle for skyscrapers, and John, the city landscape for the more rural South. With a small squeeze from John's hand, it seemed he had realized the same thing.

They certainly didn't have all the answers to their future, but that was okay for the time being. With melancholic resolution, Alexander realized their lives would never quite be the same. But I'd they were doing it together, then surely it couldn't be all bad.

###### 

_“And we keep loving anyways…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Kiss kiss fall in love!_  
>  The boys are finally together! Well, kind of... There are still 2 chapters left, so all the awkwardness and uncertainty of being together are far from over!
> 
> Alexander's attempts of apologizing are of course, excerpts from Hamilton's actual letters to John Laurens.
> 
> You may be asking yourself, is it possible to have _yet another fic_ with the spin-the-bottle at a party trope? You betcha!!  
>  But I doubt there's any other fic out there that uses Mt. Vernon, Washington's geographically flood-risky location in their plots. 
> 
> Game. Set. Match.


	5. 2014-2015

It was strange for Alexander to be back in New York. One big difference was that he was no longer walking the streets as a boy shuttling to and from between foster homes. He was no longer dependent on anyone but himself. In New York, he could truly be a new man.

He did have to admit it felt good to be back in the big city. The bustling streets and electric atmosphere were inspiring to be in. The old, historical buildings that lined the streets and the towering columns on the school’s campus made him feel like a true historian. It was hard to come to terms that John wouldn’t be able to experience the wonders of the huge campus with him anymore. _He’ll probably develop his Southern accent again,_ he figured as they first moved to the different states. In July 2014, John moved with his family of three other siblings and his father back to Charleston, South Carolina. That August, Alexander - along with Aaron and Eliza - moved into their dorm rooms to attend Columbia University in Manhattan. 

To distract himself from the missing person in his life, Alexander simply tried to focus on settling into his new college life. He and Aaron were both practicing law, so Aaron literally worked next door from him. The living situation felt all too similar to their adolescence together, since they also shared a dorm room. Their behavioral differences really began to show through the state of the opposing sides of the dorm. While Aaron’s side of the room had very few exceptions straying from the strict cleanliness he practiced, Alexander’s half was riddled with scattered papers and empty Redbull cans. One more thing quickly became apparent as the school year began: even though they started at the very same time, Alexander would continue to climb up the academic ladder. How to account for his rise to the top?

“Man, the man is nonstop!” Aaron whined to Eliza one weekend. The year had only been in session for a little over a month, but Alexander already made it clear he would not slow down. He soared in each of his classes and nearly wrote the transcripts of every lecture. 

“Hasn’t he always been?” Eliza retorted. She, like Aaron, was doing fairly well in her new classes, though she sensed Aaron tried to be more like Alexander most days. Even though she lived in a sorority, the two boys were some of the only people she felt comfortable hanging out with. “I doubt if you ever told him to take a break, he would listen.”

Aaron had to agree. Alexander was like a shiny piece of coal; a diamond in the rough who had to holler just to be heard. Since he had known him, he had always been like a bullet: fast, powerful, and impossible to slow down. Also much like a bullet, he would never throw away his shot to learn more. Late nights and early mornings were spent tirelessly by Alexander among the thick books in the University Library, and his fervent attitude toward his classes could be felt before one even entered the lecture halls. There was only a handful of times Aaron ever saw Alexander actually slow down. 

The first time was when they first arrived on the campus. As Aaron hauled their bags across the courtyard, he had turned back to see Alexander, astonishingly silent, gazing up at the large pillars in front of the University Library. A few other students milled past him; they paused and sat down on the steps to talk, but everything might as well had been invisible to Alexander. He had been clearly in awe of the building; his eyes wide as if that could allow more imagery to be processed at once. 

Aaron had shuffled back to him only to hear quiet mutterings. “I can’t believe I’m here right now…” Alexander had whispered to himself. The other boy suspected that the statement held much more weight than just his disbelief of being accepted into the college. “Barack Obama attended Columbia,” Alexander had said with a small smile and a raised eyebrow as he finally acknowledged Aaron’s presence. “Hard to believe we made it to the same school as the president.”

But Aaron just rolled his eyes. “ _Are_ you surprised, though? I distinctly remember you telling me in confidence: ‘I’mma get a scholarship to King’s College’, until I politely informed you it hasn’t been called King’s College since 1784.”

Alexander had turned red at the memory of his mistake, and the rare quiet and reflective moment was lost in a flurry of passionate statements defending his outdated knowledge. 

Another time he was surprisingly out of character was when Eliza arrived on campus. The two boys had been helping carry her belongings to her new room in one of the sororities. Aaron had gone back to get the rest of her bags, leaving the two alone. When he came back, he was surprised to not only see Alexander with a shut mouth, but also _dancing._ The sorority’s president had rigged up a makeshift music system that was playing pop music as the new students moved into their rooms. 

The summer’s new, popular song “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed Sheeran had been playing. As the sentimental notes filled the house, Eliza had taken Alexander’s hands and pulled him into an impromptu dance around her room. Albeit a bit awkwardly, Alexander went along with the dance, and soon his movements evolved from chaste to confident. In the midst of the love song, Aaron watched as Alexander dipped Eliza, and both came back up giggling with flushed cheeks. If he didn’t know any better, he would have suspected their relationship was something more than just friends. 

Perhaps the most entertaining moment Aaron could remember Alexander taking a breather was during one of the first parties at the university. Eliza’s sorority had hosted the event, so the two boys felt obliged to attend for her sake. Everything was going fine until one familiar student crashed in. Thomas Jefferson, the student who Alexander made absolutely clear to know he despised, had been accepted into the University of Pennsylvania (“Even his _college_ is our rival,” Alexander had growled to Aaron once he learned of Thomas’ acceptance.) After hearing of Eliza’s party, Thomas felt it necessary to visit under the pretense that he was close friends with Angelica Schuyler. 

“Y’know, she’s never mentioned you,” Alexander had stated through a painfully forced smile when Thomas hinted at his and Angelica’s close friendship. According to him, he and Angelica had visited France at the same time a couple years ago, and had gotten quite close on their trip. 

“She’s not the type who shares,” Thomas had responded with a snide smile. “But, since you’re so interested in _foreign affairs…_ ” Alexander could only glare at the other boy’s insinuation as he prattled on. “The French tax system is ridiculous! Do you even know how high their taxes are over there? It’s the highest in the entire OECD! It’s not like the United States is much better, though. We have the highest corporate income tax rate. Imagine that: we _could_ be earning every cent we earn on payday, but instead, we’re forced to give up a percentage of that to - who? The government?! To do what they please with it?! Why, it’d be better if the whole tax system was abolished; government shouldn’t have that much power over our own paychecks.”

At that point, Aaron had noticed Alexander becoming deathly quiet. His dark eyes were a troubling concoction that surely contained at least a hint of murder. The break he remembered Alexander taking at that moment could only be classified by a long, deep breath. He had closed his eyes and brought his palms together, as if he was praying God to forgive Thomas’ ignorance. 

“Thomas, that was a _real nice_ declaration,” Alexander had begun slowly as he opened his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Welcome to the present, this is a real nation, isn’t it? Would you like to join us, or stay mellow, doing whatever the _Hell_ it is you do in Monticello?” Aaron’s jaw had dropped at his stab at Thomas’ conservative Virginian hometown. “What do you think taxes are for, exactly? They do more than just ‘whatever the government pleases’. Our tax dollars pay for _roads._ They pay for our public education; our hospitals; our public transportation; our Social Security and Medicare checks; our veteran's benefits. Because of taxes, you’re able to send a letter to anywhere in the country for just 17 cents! The system's certainly far from perfect, but shouldn't be abolished altogether! You get _out_ what you put _in_!”

A couple more minutes of explosive ranting had followed, and Aaron had to physically pull Alexander away from the party after another student (Jim Madison, he recognized from high school) tried to defend Thomas from his onslaught. “Hey! Turn around, bend over, I’ll show you where my shoe _fits!!_ ” Alexander had yelled at them both as Aaron desperately dragged him out of the house. The other partygoers watched in awe, even offering their own “Ooooohh!!!”’s at the roasts. “ _PAY YOUR FUCKING TAXES!!_ ” was the last thing Alexander had shouted across the room before being dragged away. 

Needless to say, Alexander was hence banned from all other parties in that sorority. 

The final time Aaron observed Alexander ever slowing down was on that same night of his tax argument with Thomas. When they got back to their dorm room (Aaron trying to hold in his laughter from the whole exchange; the other still fuming), Alexander had received a phone call.

“Oh! John, thank God,” Alexander had answered his phone. Aaron had expected him to follow the greeting up with a continuation of his rant, but the fiery anger he exhibited only moments before was almost immediately extinguished by the sound of John’s voice. In amazement, he had watched Alexander’s body posture, which was hard set on the offensive, at last drop and relax. John’s voice had been like Valium, he had thought as Alexander spent the next hour laying on his bed, his phone pressed close to his ear. He had no idea what their conversation could have been about, but it was the first night in a while since Alexander hadn’t fallen asleep at his desk. 

Aaron could count the amount of times Alexander actually took a break on one hand. Now, discussing his brother’s indomitable work pattern with Eliza, he couldn’t help wondering why he always wrote like he was running out of time.

As if proving Aaron’s point, Alexander was busy typing away on his laptop in the University Library while Aaron and Eliza were gossiping about him. He couldn’t deny to spending an excessive amount of time at that library, but he did work nonstop for a reason. In reality, only a small fraction of his time was spent writing for his classes. The many other hours were dedicated toward editing other people’s work. 

Alexander was tired of not having any money in his pocket. Since he had arrived to the U.S., it felt like he was constantly on his knees, begging for money, food, and shelter. Whenever he confided this with John, he had always told him: “Well, when you’re living on your knees, you _rise up._ ” He never realized how big the world really was once he finally stood up to look around. Slowly, the past four years taught him how to rise to his feet. Now, he needed to work to continue standing.

Over the past couple months, Alexander had tried to make a name for himself as an online editor. He posted his name and information on Craigslist and Monster, hoping to make a couple bucks from the endeavor. The number of independent blogs and essays he was hired to edit were dismal in the beginning. Soon, however, the trickle grew into a gushing stream of editing requests as the knowledge of his sharp editing skills spread. 

Even just a month into the school year, Alexander’s workload occupied him day and night. Often, editing requests came from students within Columbia who were too lazy to revise their own work, though he was able to build a cozy clientele for himself. Some of his clients included a local food blog he had to edit nearly every night, a travel blog that needed editing weekly, and a non-profit magazine about Latin-American youths around the world. Those who hired Alexander paid him through a PayPal account, though he had refused to accept any money from the magazine. While it was also a fairly easy gig (all he had to do was make sure the Spanish to English translations in the magazine’s articles were correct), he couldn’t bear taking money from a non-profit organization, especially one that hit so close to home. It was enough for the organization to put his name under the editor position, and to send him free copies of their latest editions. 

Alexander was pleased to see his bank account growing as a result of his hard work. While it did feel pleasant to have that safety net of money under his feet, he did plan to spend most - if not all of it. Another main motivation behind his work was to save up enough money to visit John. Plane tickets alone were at least $150, and he still needed money in his budget to do activities with John once they were together. 

Until he managed to make enough money, however, working as quickly and as hard as he could was the best thing he could do. Alexander knew deep down that his work pattern was alarmingly detrimental to his eyes, his back, his wrists, and his mentality, but if was all done to be with John, then it will surely be worth it.

###### 

Since John moved back to Charleston, he knew the next couple years were going to be difficult to get through. His classes at the technical college in his county didn’t start until late-September, while all his siblings’ classes in middle and high school began at the end of August. Even his baby sister Mary - 6 years old now - spent the daytime hours at preschool. Due to the timing, that meant John was stuck, more often than not, alone with his father for a month. 

At first, their conversations rarely delved past awkward small-talk, though it usually ended with Henry Laurens bringing up his son’s failures and instructing him how to improve. At the end of the month alone with him, the tension between them was tangible. Their relationship almost felt like poison to John. Of course, he loved his father, but his demands of him since his mother - and then Jemmy - passed away were increasingly difficult to fulfill. He was legally an adult now - he should be out in the world; he should be allowing himself to grow and discover who he was! Yet, he was kept in the house, locked into attending the technical community college, with a father who continued to suppress his personal development. The part of John that still felt compelled to please his father trapped him inside such an adolescent state of mind he wondered if he would ever be able to escape. 

So, after the first quarter of his year in community college was almost over, when Alexander surprised him by saying he had earned enough money to fly John to and from New York, he was head over heels at the opportunity. 

That same night, he related the information to his father. “Alexander is offering to fly me to New York to visit him,” John told him as he and his sister Martha sat at the kitchen table. “We found round-trip tickets from November 5th to the 11th. My finals this quarter end on the 4th, and I won’t have any classes until December. Everything would be paid for, so,” he took a deep breath before saying with resolve, “I’m going to go.”

A couple moments passed before Henry Laurens responded. He looked back and forth between his son and Martha, who was watching her brother refuse to back down under his scanning eyes, before sighing. “Well, Jack, what about your younger siblings? I’m sure they could use your hel --”

“Dad,” Martha spoke softly, laying a hand on his wrist. She had always been much more patient with their father than John. “We’re pretty grown up now. I think we can manage if John wants to visit his friend,” she said this with a reassuring smile to Henry Laurens, which became more pointed as she turned to John. 

_Bless, Martha,_ John praised his sister silently. She had always been the mediating force between he and his father. First, she managed to convince him to keep the turtles John found years ago as pets. Then, she single-handedly stopped his constant nagging to cut John’s long hair. And now, since staying with the others at the Schuyler’s house during the flood last year, she consistently stood up for John spending time with Alexander. Whether she was or was not aware of their true intimacy, she never once disapproved of their friendship. 

Henry Laurens released another sigh through his nose. “Okay. You can go,” he said finally, looking up at John. The fluorescent light of the kitchen accentuated his father’s face in all the wrong places. His cheeks were too sallow; skin under his eyes too baggy; even his clothes seemed to weigh down on his shoulders. At that moment, John felt a profound amount of pity toward him, but managed to quickly snap out of it. 

“Thank you...ah, sir,” he said curtly before walking back out of the room. He made a mental note to make Martha some kind of thank you gift for standing up for him. 

###### 

It was the last day John had of his class finals. In all honesty, he probably should have studied more in preparation, but his lax college schedule gave him much more time to procrastinate. Nothing illustrated this more than the hour he had before his final final. Rather than spending the time wisely and taking out his textbook, John instead pulled out his sketchpad and began drawing a bouquet of Martha’s favorite flowers to be watercolored later. Nothing would be better than a homemade thank you card, he figured. 

“Wow, that’s pretty good!” a voice said behind him, but John didn’t turn around. He always gave the benefit of the doubt that the offhanded comment was never meant for his work, and 99% of the people who vocally praised others’ drawings never followed up their comments with anything more. The voice must have belonged to the other 1% then, because John felt a finger tapping his shoulder. Turning around, John immediately recognized the man’s short stature and receding hairline. 

“Oh, good afternoon, Professor Paine,” John smiled at his philosophy professor. The final he was currently procrastinating studying for was for his class in just a few minutes. Professor Thomas Paine leaned over his shoulder and indicated toward John's sketchpad. 

“This is very impressive, Laurens,” he repeated. “I’ve already caught you doodling during my lectures--” John turned a bit red in embarrassment “--but I didn’t know it amounted to this!” John looked back at his drawing bashfully. Though just a sketch, he supposed it was impressive to anyone passing by. Even without the help of a reference or color, John had been able to pull the botanical knowledge of the desired flowers out of his own mind’s eye. With quick, precise marks, he was able to clearly draw the specific flower arrangement with ease. “Do you...do any more?”

Albeit a little bit shy showing off his art, John pulled out his phone and showed Paine some pictures of his pieces that he took. Not including the angrier and more fluid works he completed the last year, almost all of his subject matter were of nature. The flowers and different types of birds that he was surrounded with as he grew up in Charleston and Mt. Vernon were his main inspirations. Thankfully, Paine didn’t ask any questions as to why Alexander was the only portrait study that kept reappearing in John’s art. 

“These are...quite good studies of fauna and flora,” his professor praised, reluctantly giving his phone back. He silently pondered for a moment, then turned to him with a smile. “Laurens, have you heard of the annual Spoleto Festival USA?”

John nodded. “That art festival? I’ve always wanted to go, but, ah…” _My father never allowed me to,_ he thought bitterly. He swore when he was in England, he overheard his father telling his brother he would “be content with the remembrance of having a son” if he pursued art. In other words, John felt his father would lowkey disown him if he strayed too far into the arts, which he figured, was why he was enrolled in the technical community college now. 

His professor clapped his hands together. “Great! Then I’ll take you to it this year,” John gave him a doubtful look, but he continued to push. “I’ll make it a class assignment then. Trust me, if you are this interested in art, you need to attend the festival. Now, that's just,” Thomas Paine put on a pair of sunglasses before entering his classroom, “Common sense.”

Unrelated, a loud “YEEEEAHHHHH!!!” rang across the campus. John shook his head and packed up his belongings before heading inside the classroom to take his philosophy final. 

On November 5th, John left for the airport with only his backpack and a small duffel bag with clothes for the week stuffed inside. Alexander had already bought him a round-way ticket to New York, so all he had to do was board the plane. That didn’t stop his father from trying to keep him from going, however. 

“Jacky,” Henry Laurens had used his childish nickname while he packed his bag the night before. John inwardly cringed upon hearing the name. He hadn’t been addressed as ‘Jacky’ since he was a kid, and his father was literally the only person who called him ‘Jack’ anymore. Perhaps he only kept calling John this to show endearment, but being addressed by the adolescent name really only seemed to place him back under his father’s control. “I just don’t want you rushing into this trip,” Henry Laurens had continued, and John struggled not to roll his eyes. He had done everything his father told him to do for _years._ Why couldn’t he just do _this_? “New York winters are supposed to be very nasty. Are you sure you want to go this time of year? It seems too early to leave us.”

Ahh, there it was. The carefully crafted sentence uttered for the sole purpose of guilt-tripping his son to stay. For the first time, John looked up from his packing to look at his father, and the guilt-trip almost worked. Henry Laurens - a man who lost not only his wife, but also _eight_ children in infancy, and another in an accident - simply did not want John to “leave too early” like the others. His father’s infinitely sad gaze bore into his, and John felt his once strong resolve start to crack. 

He had begun to rethink his trip to New York, but stopped. _I’ll be fine,_ he told himself. _This trip is for the good of everyone._ Instead of setting down his bag, John finished packing it and zipped it up. “You don’t have to worry about me,” he told his father with a reassuring half-smile. “I can take care of myself, sir.” He was about to move past him with the bag over his shoulder, but laid a hand on his father's shoulder. “I mean, uhm, dad,” John tacked on. The sudden surge of love that had risen in his chest at that moment almost brought tears to his eyes. Fighting back the urge, he had shuffled past Henry Laurens and continued to pack for his trip.

John had boarded the airplane and landed safely in New York. Before his departure, Alexander had texted him extensive instructions about how to use the public transportation in the city. Despite the many details and tips, the subways were still confusing as Hell. John had to make two connections, but almost got lost way too many times. However, with the help of Alexander through text and of some very annoyed subway passengers, he was finally able to get to Columbia University after a two hour struggle. 

John stuffed his hands in his coat pockets as he walked across the campus. At least his father was right about one thing: New York winters were certainly among the most bitterly cold weathers in the country. It was easy to tell which students grew up used to the winters and which did not. Those who did not were bundled up with gloves, scarves, caps, and big coats. Those who did only wore a coat and occasionally a cap, their faces as indifferent to the weather as the stone bricks of the university. Due to unpreparedness, John’s clothes unfortunately resembled the latter category, though he was far from being used to the cold. 

At last, he was able to locate Alexander’s dorm building. With uncertainty, he entered and shot off a text announcing his arrival to the other boy before trying to find his dorm room. Fortunately, each door in the hall displayed who were inside the rooms. Almost all the doors were decorated creatively and showcased plenty of personality from the residents inside. Some had the students’ names written on nametags with paper cut-outs lining the door; others had a whiteboard tacked onto the door so people could leave temporary notes. There was only one door that didn’t have any sort of decorations. On that door, there were only two labels (which John assumed were the default stickers the dorm building offered them) with Aaron and Alexander written. The only other thing on the door was a yellow sticky note that read: _Yo when you come back at TWO AM could you please be a LITTLE FUCKING QUIETER?!_

John snickered to himself and raised his hand to knock, but the door swung in before he had the chance to. Alexander stood with a grin on his face and quickly enveloped the other in a tight hug. He let out a laugh in surprise and leaned into the embrace. The sudden hug didn’t allow John much time to get a good look at the other boy, but he could already tell that Alexander was extremely disheveled. 

Peach fuzz lined Alexander’s jaw, and it scratched against John’s cheeks. His hair stuck up in odd places, and only half of it seemed to have any attempt of up-keep. He smiled to himself as he pictured the other boy frantically trying to make himself more presentable when he received John’s text. 

When the two finally pulled away, John noticed the silver glasses on Alexander’s face. He remembered the conversation they had when Alexander learned he needed glasses. He had been pretty self-conscious about having to wear the accessory, so he decided to buy the thinnest possible frames. However, now that John looked at him, the thin frames made him look like an old man - though he wouldn’t dare tell him that out loud. If they helped Alexander feel more secure, then that’s the only thing that mattered, really. 

“Look at you!” Alexander grinned, cupping John’s cheeks, which were quite rosy from the cold weather, into his palms. 

He leaned into his hands gratefully, the warmth of them comforting. “Look at _you!_ ” John repeated with the same enthusiasm, indicating to his messy hair and wrinkled clothes. Alexander, suddenly conscious of how he looked, removed his hands to desperately try to flatten the hair on his head. 

“I’m not like this every day, I swear,” he explained, attempting - and failing - to smooth out his long-sleeved shirt. 

“Then what’s different about today?”

He paused. “It’s Wednesday.” John snickered and closed the door behind them, but not before taking the sticky note off. Alexander led him to his bed on his side of the room. The divide between his and Aaron’s sides of the dorm was astounding. Aaron’s bed was made immaculately, with only a laptop on the covers and his worn, green backpack propped up against it. Alexander’s side, however, was another story. His bed, at least, was made, but loose leaf papers scattered across almost every available surface. Alexander’s desk was even worse. There were open notebooks and textbooks laying about, pens and sticky notes sticking out, and a half-open laptop laying on top of everything. 

“Sorry, sorry; I thought that I could finish before you came,” Alexander apologized as he began carefully stacking the papers on the bed. Despite the apparent messiness of the scattered papers, they did seem to have some order to the chaos as he collected them. Soon Alexander had finished organizing the clutter of papers and set the ordered stack on the corner of his desk. John took a seat on the newly-cleaned bed and continued to look about the room as the other boy continued to pick up his mess. 

A small calendar was tacked on the wall next to the bed. The few weeks leading up to that day, the 5th, were outrageously filled. Several different colored sticky notes even had to be added to continue the list of things Alexander had to do on certain days. The jumble of words and arrows and extra sticky notes made it impossible for him to distinguish what any of the notes read. On the 5th, however, the calendar was a blank slate. In fact, there was absolutely nothing listed in the tiny calendar boxes for the entire week before picking up again on the 12th. John questioned about it, to which Alexander smiled, and replied, “I just wanted to make sure I get to spend time with you. That’s why I,” he held up another stack of papers he was creating, “got a week’s worth of work done in advance.”

The corners of John’s mouth lifted up as a renewed sense of gratitude flowed over him. He got up from the bed and stood behind Alwxander, taking the stack of papers from his grasp, and setting them on the desk before wrapping his arms over his shoulders. “Thank you,” he breathed into Alexander’s neck, spotting a recycling bin under the desk with a concerning amount of Redbull cans. However, he decided not to bring up his concerns and wrapped the yellow note from the door into Alexander’s hand. “I think this was meant for you.”

Alexander took one look at the note and groaned. “This is from Aaron,” he explained, crumpling it up.

Chuckling, John looped his arm with his and led him back to the bed. “So leaving passive-aggressive notes to your roommate has already begun?”

“You could say, it has continued,” Alexander sighed, sitting down. “I don’t normally answer his texts anymore, so he leaves notes where he knows I’ll see them. And besides - the thing at 2 AM was only _one time_!” he exclaimed defensively. “It was really dark in the room, and I may or may not have yelled a couple profanities when I stubbed my toe.”

“Right…” John replied softly. “Where is Aaron now?”

The other boy just shrugged. “Out doing...whatever,” he said, waving his hand for emphasis. 

“So he won’t be...” John snaked his arm around Alexander’s waist. “...back anytime soon?”

Alexander met his mischievous grin with his own as John gently pushed him down. Soon John was over his face, long locks of hair hanging down and tickling his cheeks. Alexander looked up at his closed eyes as he kissed him with a half-lidded gaze. Oh, how he’d missed John; how he’d missed _this_! He felt like he was drinking in the other boy - bathing in every small detail while he had him there with him: the way his eyebrows arched up; the apples of his cheeks rising from a poorly suppressed smile; the short breaths he took in-between each kiss. John ran his fingers through Alexander’s hair; the movement so familiar he didn’t even need to open his eyes to do so. 

The sun outside the half-closed window continued to fall until it was twilight. The golden-yellow light filled the room like water. The shadows from the forms on the bed were painted long across the floor, though Alexander thought John was glowing. The two boys were lying side by side on the bed, heads propped up by one pillow. John, exhausted from his flight and subsequent misadventures in the subway, lay with his eyes closed in the nook of Alexander’s neck. Turning his head to the side, Alexander wished he had the artistic capability to forever capture how peaceful John looked in his sleep. 

As the last few rays of the sun dipped down, the dorm was quickly enveloped by the dark blanket of night. John subconsciously drew himself closer to to the warmth of Alexander, his hand clutching his shirt not unlike a child holding onto a stuffed animal. Alexander happily drew him closer to his body. For the first time in weeks, he let out a long breath and felt his muscles relax. 

The afternoon had been so pleasant. He had done so much work the past few weeks to make the last few hours happen. And now, he was at last able to reap his reward. Kissing John’s forehead one last time, Alexander closed his eyes for the night. The rest of the world seemed so pointless at that moment. For just this once, he allowed himself to be completely oblivious to it all and fall asleep to the one important thing in the room. 

About an hour later, Aaron came back to the dorm, and was surprised to see his roommate so contently sleeping.

###### 

Waking up next to Alexander was still a new experience, but a pleasant one nonetheless. John burrowed his face sleepily into the crook of the other boy's neck, feeling the steady rise and fall of the other boy’s chest against his shoulder. After a while, John turned to stare up at his face. Even in his sleep, Alexander looked exhausted. The weight of unconsciousness glued him to the bed as John pressed his lips gently against his neck. He would have felt content simply laying there until Alexander woke up, but the almost overwhelming need to relieve himself first won out. 

John had fallen asleep on the side opposite from the open side of the bed, so his sneaky attempt of leaving without noise was ill-executed. Somehow, and by some miracle, Alexander still did not stir. John silently made his way out the room and to the bathroom he spotted on his way to the dorm. Quickly using it, he exited it and nearly ran into Aaron on his way in. 

“Oh! Uh, hi...Aaron!” he fumbled for words. How much Aaron knew of their relationship, he still had no clue, but sleeping in the same bed as Alexander was pretty damning evidence of their intimacy. Back when Martha dated her first boyfriend, John remembered automatically disapproving of the boy, just because he qas protective of his little sister. He imagined Aaron might have the same attitude for his brother's relationships. 

However, Aaron didn’t give any indication which way he felt. His emotions were left behind a wall built from years of practicing the perfect neutral expression. “Good morning, John,” was all he said flatly before slipping past him into the bathroom. John swallowed whatever panic that had built up and made his way back to the dorm. Alexander stirred a bit as the door clicked behind him, but he didn’t wake up completely. John knelt down beside him and carefully pulled the bed’s blanket up to his shoulders. 

It was still hard to believe everything Alexander had done for them to be together that week. Between single-handedly saving up enough money for his plane ticket and finishing over a week’s worth of university homework and projects, John struggled to comprehend how Alexander possibly had any free time left for himself. _Well, knowing him, he would leave zero time to himself,_ John concluded. What he’d noticed of Alexander since freshman year continued every year he knew him: if Alexander wasn’t working on something, he was probably working on something else. Usually that something else included writing in his notebooks, which were poking out from an open backpack at the foot of the bed. To pass the time waiting for Alexander to wake, John attempted to organize the cluttered desk. 

Only then did the depths of Alexander’s work for their meeting truly dawn on him. John imagined Alexander frantically writing and typing at the small room late into the night; the tiny lamp as his only light source straining his eyes and the small free space on the desk cramping his hands. A great deal of guilt washed over him. Alexander had done all this work for _him_ , and him alone! What, exactly, had he done to deserve all of it; all his caring? And what was he doing in return? _Absolutely nothing,_ John sighed as he anxiously capped each open pen from the desk and placed it in an overcrowded pencil holder. Once he did all that he could with the desk, he sat on the edge of the bed and watched the other boy sleep. 

_Is he happy?_ John bit his lip. _Like, content in our relationship? And that relationship being…_ If he was being honest, John still didn’t know what their status was, and not having the answer frustrated him. He did feel that he and Alexander were serious, but… the word _boyfriend_ made his heart flutter in both excitement and nervousness. It had been drilled into his mind since he was a child that girls could not date girls; boys could not date boys. The church he used to attend in Charleston treated homosexuality as a disease - something to be _cured_ of. Yet, Alexander’s comfort in his own sexuality disproved all the arguments against being gay. 

Alexander had been so confident shooting down Seabury’s arguments against gay marriage that one day, freshman year. He had been so at ease in coming out - he even made fun of the process! Furthermore, he had been so relaxed kissing and touching _him_ , another male. Alexander proved it was possible to be comfortable in one’s sexuality, so why couldn’t John be comfortable in his? In fact, many of their early relationship problems stemmed from John’s fear of being caught or condemned. Now he worried if it was again his fault that they couldn’t define their relationship. 

And what about sex? His heart beat faster at just the thought of it. Was it wrong of them not to have had sex yet? They had been in a relationship - whatever that “relationship” may actually be - for over a year now. They have had some pretty intense makeout sessions before, and they have left more than a just few hickeys on the other’s body. But nothing yet was done below the belt. It certainly wasn’t that John didn’t _want_ to have sex with Alexander. In fact, oftentimes, the other boy was the one occupying his thoughts on nights slept with his right hand. 

To say he didn’t fantasize himself with Alexander was a complete lie. While hundreds of miles separated them physically, John envisioned what they would do when they were at last reunited. Many times the past year, everything seemed to be perfect for them to have sex. However, even when they were able to be alone for a long period, or the mood was just right, John always froze up and couldn’t venture into anything more sexual. 

_Yet another thing I can’t get right,_ he thought bitterly. Alexander began to stir, so he was forced to stop his self-loathing for the time being. John crawled onto the bed and over to the other boy, giving him a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

“That’s a good way to wake up,” Alexander mumbled, cracking his eyes open. John smiled softly and resumed his position of the night before; his face nuzzled tightly between the boy’s shoulder and neck. “Have you been up long?” he felt the vibration of Alexander’s throat as he spoke against his forehead. 

“Just a little while,” John closed his eyes, silently wishing they could just waste the day away together in the bed. Unconsciousness was the only escape he had from his infinite self-deprecating thoughts. 

It seemed his wish would have been granted had Alexander not checked the time on his phone. “It’s already _eleven_?! Shit, John, we need to go,” he made a move to rise from the bed, but John stuck out a hand to hold him down. 

John’s move was partly done for selfish reasons - and he pressed a bit harder than he intended - so he tried to soften it with an overly concerned tone. “You could use the rest, Alexander. I don’t think all that caffeine you pumped into your system is going to leave in just one night.”

To his relief, the compassion seemed to work. Alexander stopped resisting and looped his fingers with John’s. It appeared that he was going to lay back down, but instead, he lifted John’s hand off his chest and climbed off the bed. “I feel absolutely fine,” he smiled to the other boy, who was trying hard not to glare at him from the bedspread. “I promise. Now, we should probably leave soon if we want to make the bus; it doesn’t take too long to get there, so maybe we could…” Alexander continued rattling off his plans for the day, but John had stopped listening. Finally, he admitted defeat after a few minutes of sulking and got himself out of bed and dressed. 

 

On the way to the subway station, the two stopped by the university’s cafe to pick up some breakfast. Alexander ordered both of them decaf coffee, but changed his order to caffeinated with two espresso shots when he thought John was out of earshot. As they walked to the station, they ate their breakfast and John pestered the other to reveal where they were going. 

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you!” Alexander only repeated, to which John would huff in mild irritation. Before they reached the station, the bitter wind picked up again and swept over their faces. Alexander, already hardened to the cold from the winters of his adolescence in New York stonily bore the sting of the air. John was forced to hunch his shoulders and bury as much of his face as possible into the large scarf the other boy lended him for the day. Alexander must have worn the scarf often because it smelled strongly of him. Even while in the packed subway car, away from the harsh winds outside, John still stuffed his nose and mouth inside the scarf. The scent calmed him as they rode the train, and diverted his thoughts from wondering too much if he should be holding Alexander’s hand.

After about a half hour of traveling, Alexander led John out of the subway station and through the streets. Soon, John was standing in awe at the foot of the grand building Alexander planned to show him. 

“The _Met_?” John asked, his eyes wide at the grandeur. An American flag billowed to the right, and the banners listing the exhibitions quivered in the wind. 

“Surprise!” Alexander laughed, pulling out a receipt for two tickets from his wallet. “Everything’s already paid for, so c’mon!” He tugged on John's coat sleeve to follow him up the steps. “It should start getting crowded soon.” John eagerly followed suit and they entered the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 

They were in the exhibitions for hours, or so Alexander could only guess; the time seemed to go by so fast. As soon as they entered, John was captivated by the art surrounding them. He could hardly decide which exhibit they should visit first. 

“There’s so many to choose from,” John muttered in excitement as they received a map of the museum. “Look! They have a collection of portrait miniatures, _Renaissance_ tapestries, and - HO LY SHIT. _Cubism??_ Oh my God, they have Georges Braque _and Picasso!!_ Okay, we are definitely going there now.”

Witnessing John’s enthusiasm certainly made the trip more enjoyable for Alexander. He loved the way the other boy looked at each painting they came across. His eyes lit up if he recognized a piece, and a scrutinizing expression would fall on his face, his gaze seemingly retracing all the strokes the artist had done decades before. Some pieces John stayed only a short while, but others, he appeared to be so caught up in the work that it would take a tremendous amount of force to tear him away. Either way, Alexander did not complain. He was enjoying himself among the different styles of art, and, even if he didn’t understand the work in some exhibits (mainly the Cubism one), John was clearly having a good time. The extra kick of caffeine that morning helped Alexander stay awake for the first few hours, but when the large crowds began to diminish, so did his energy level. With the museum only open a half hour longer, John finally decided he had had his fill of art.

The cold air outside the museum rejuvenated Alexander. He happily led them back to the subway station and was surprised to feel John’s hand interlocking with his. It was so rare of John to show any sort of public affection. He knew and understood why he felt uncomfortable being so close to someone of the same gender while others were watching, though he secretly wished it didn’t have to be so difficult for them to be together in public. In respecting his boundaries, Alexander never initiated their interactions while they were out. So to feel John’s hand squeezing his was unexpected, but pleasant nonetheless. 

Granted, the small interaction didn’t last too long, but he was grateful for the time it did. As they approached the station and were once again surrounded by a large crowd of people, he felt John all too quickly pull his hand back. By the time the two were finally crammed into the subway car, the drop of Alexander’s caffeine high really started to weigh down on him. His eyes felt like lead, and his head weighed even heavier. Even while standing up in the car, he could feel himself falling asleep. 

John noticed Alexander acting much more sluggish as they entered the station. He only realized he was falling asleep when his forehead dropped to his shoulder. After waiting a few seconds for Alexander to move, it became evident he completely lost consciousness. John hesitated waking him, though. _I told him he needed his rest,_ he thought with slight bitterness, but mostly compassion. After all, it was all the sleepless nights Alexander spent working that had made it possible for them to be together that week. The subway slowed to a stop and John did his best to shield Alexander from the passengers getting on and off. 

He used one arm to pull Alexander closer to his chest and the other to grasp a pole in the subway car as the train began rolling again. Even though Alexander probably would have been able to balance himself if John were to let go of his waist, he kept his arm in place. This was the longest they had touched in public - and in front of so many people. John looked around the car, expecting to see many others judgmentally staring at their interaction. However, the other passengers couldn’t have cared less. Most of them were on their phones, or straight up staring at the ground. With a bit more confidence, John continued to hold Alexander close.

Eventually, he recognized the name of the upcoming station to be the one closest to Columbia University and gently shook Alexander awake as the subway slowed. Though a bit disoriented at having just regained consciousness, Alexander did manage to navigate their way out of the station and back to the university dorms. All the way, John’s hand rested comfortably in his.

###### 

The rest of the week John spent with Alexander went very well. Alexander continued to happily tour John around Manhattan, and John thoroughly enjoyed the hours they were able to spend together. After much persistence, he was also able to convince Alexander to sleep in on most days. “The city’s not going anywhere,” would be his argument, and the other boy would begrudgingly comply. 

Over the course of the week, John became increasingly more comfortable touching and flirting with Alexander in public. In the dorm room, he didn’t care if Aaron saw them sleeping in the same bed. Even in the large crowds that gathered in the places they visited, or amongst the people on the streets, John would frequently hold Alexander’s hand and sometimes even sneak a kiss in. 

With just a couple days left in New York, the two had thoroughly explored all the city’s main attractions. “I’ve got one last place in mind,” Alexander told John as they were coming back from visiting the Statue of Liberty. 

“What’s that?”

“The Niagara Falls,” he answered, looking over to see John’s reaction. 

“That’s, uhm, pretty far away,” John commented. “Are you sure we can make it there and back in time?”

“It is a bit far, yeah; about a six and a half hour drive. But hey listen,” Alexander squeezed his hand. “We could drive up there in a day, then stay in a motel for a night or two, then come back. I really want to see it...and I want to see it with _you_. So, would you want to go?”

John stared back at Alexander’s imploring eyes. He didn’t know why that specific landmark was so important, but he could see that it obviously meant a lot to the other boy. “Of course I want to go,” he answered with a smile, but he was still stuck on having to rent a room to visit the Falls. 

While in bed that night, John was kept up by thoughts of the motel room they would stay in. Like any teenage boy, the idea of sex lodged itself in his mind. He and Alexander would literally be _getting a room_ together; in all those romantic comedies, that was the point in the movie in which the protagonists would finally sleep together. But, John realized gloomily, nearly all those rom coms portrayed heterosexual couples. What about _them_? What were _they_ supposed to do?

Alexander was lying on his back in the bed and John laid one hand over his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath. As the past few days progressed, so did his fantasies of himself and Alexander. They had had so much freedom to do what they wanted with each other, without fear of being caught. However, because Alexander did share a room with Aaron, the boys did have to stop whenever Aaron came back to the dorm. That issue would not arise if they were to stayed in a motel while visiting the Falls. In a motel, they would have all the privacy they wanted; if both of them felt ready enough, their first sexual interaction with one another was not out of the question. 

Eventually, John was lulled to sleep listening to Alexander’s breathing and by the virtue of having the long car ride to Niagara Falls to mull his thoughts over. 

In the morning, John called a motel in Niagara Falls to reserve a room for the next couple nights while Alexander worked to rent a car. By noon, the boys were on the road. The six and half hour of driving was indeed a long trip, though not terribly arduous. John and Alexander took turns driving and made a few pit stops at gas stations to take breaks. The radio music also helped pass the time, though when Ed Sheeran’s new song "Runaway" played, John had to switch the station as the lyrics were getting too poignant.

While Alexander drifted to sleep in the passenger seat, John’s mind drifted back to what they should do once in the motel room, though he shook the thoughts out of his mind by focusing on the long stretch of road ahead of them. _A distracted driver is dangerous enough as is,_ he told himself. At long last, they arrived to the city of Niagara Falls just as the clock turned to 8 PM. Too tired from the interminable drive to do much else, the two stopped at a 7 Eleven to get a couple cup of noodles for dinner. They barely finished eating the MSG-flavored soup before they passed out on the motel bed together in exhaustion. 

Alexander was the first to wake up the next morning. He cracked his eyes open and tried to get his bearings straight. Their motel bed was only supplied one pillow, so they had done their best to share it during the night. John still faced him now, his eyes moving ever so slightly under his eyelids as he continued to dream. Alexander carefully untangled their legs from one another under the blanket and silently got off the bed. 

_I really hope he’ll enjoy this trip,_ he thought as he began fixing some instant coffee from the hot water machine in the room. _He looked a little hesitant coming to the Falls, but he seems to be a bit better now…_ For whatever reason, Alexander felt that John was always lost in thought whenever they were together. He hoped the pensiveness was just the sadness at having their week together be so close to ending and not something more serious, or something that Alexander had done to make him so reserved. He also hoped the trip to Niagara Falls would be a good end to their week together. In addition to wanting to witness the spectacularly iconic national landmark with him, he also figured it was the perfect time to tell John he loved him. 

Alexander had been tweaking with the perfect phrasing of his words for the past few weeks. Finally, he settled on one of his drafts he started last year. It was short, sweet, and very representative of how they first started their relationship. He had practiced reciting it to him in his mind, and could only hope that he would be able to perform it to perfection when the time came.

John awoke to the smell of the instant coffee and graciously accepted the cup that was given to him. Within an hour, the boys were ready to visit the Falls. Since November wasn’t the typical time to be visiting the landmark, the lookout area to view the giant waterfall was fairly empty. Though the air was frigid and even John’s combination of shivering and huddling close to Alexander failed to prevent the coldness from seeping in, the view of the Falls was magnificent. 

The water gushed over the side with an incredible amount of ease and power; the thunderous rolls of it surrounding them from all sides and creating a fine mist down below. It was the one exception of rushing water that did not make Alexander extremely anxious. Unlike floods or rising waters from tropical storms, the Niagara Falls were contained. Yes, the force of nature was still completely indifferent to everything that came in its path, but in witnessing the power of it in person, he was more struck with how tragically beautiful the earth was.

In moments like these, he began to realize how small he was in the world; how small everyone was, really, in the whole scheme of the universe. They could die tomorrow, and the world would still spin in their absence. Their little lives didn’t count at all, not really. But yet...they were there now. For whatever reason, and despite the many millions of different outcomes and paths their lives could have taken, there they were, watching one of nature’s greatest displays, _together._

Alexander held tightly onto John’s gloved hand, feeling a surge of love rise in his chest. It boggled his mind how many improbabilities they overcame to be together at that very moment. The will of the universe was absolutely insane and impossible to understand, but just for the time being, he was content to enjoy the path their lives decided to take together. He didn’t want to waste any more time. 

After the two were satisfied with their view of the Falls, they turned to head back to the city. As the sound of the crashing water faded in the distance, Alexander stopped John from walking. John watched in curiosity as he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket, his hands shaking - from the cold or nervousness, John couldn’t quite tell. Alexander gave him a wobbly smile before starting to read off his paper. 

“You know the opinion I entertain of mankind, and how much it is my desire to preserve myself free from particular attachments, and to keep my happiness independent on the caprice of others,” Alexander began, his warm breath and fast talking forming a small cloud in the air in front of him. He paused for a second to slow down. “You should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent. But as you have done it and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on condition that for my sake, if not for your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have so artfully instilled into me,” John felt warmth sneak into his cheeks and Alexander took a breath. “Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my Dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by action rather than words, to convince you that... I love you.” Alexander now looked up from his paper, eyes searching John’s for any sort of reaction. 

John stepped forward, effectively closing the space between them and wrapped his arms around his middle. “So you say you...love me?” he asked quietly, to which Alexander nodded. “Well, in about ten percent of the words you gave me, you could say… I love you, too,” John smiled and kissed Alexander. The other boy looked so relieved at his reciprocation he had to laugh. “That was a beautifully written speech, though. Much more eloquent and specific than your original ‘Laurens, I like you a lot’.”

Alexander snickered as they began to walk again. They explored the city for the rest of the afternoon in the same mindset they had way back when they first met: carefree, happy, and _together._

 

 _I wish it might be in my power, by action rather than words, to convince you that I love you...by_ action, _rather than words…by action…_ Alexander’s confession of love earlier that day repeated itself in John’s mind several times over. He was currently getting a couple of items at a convenience store for the night at the motel while Alexander bought gas outside. _By action...is that a sign? Is he trying to tell me he wants to go all the way?_ John bit his lip as he grabbed a couple water bottles. _It does sound implied...though that may just be his language._ After a couple more minutes arguing with himself, he doubled back to the aisles and grabbed a box of condoms to buy, hiding it in his pocket after he left the store. 

Within the hour, they were back in the motel room, the setting sun casting long shadows from the open window. Alexander kicked off his tight shoes and laid down heavily on the bed. John followed suit and huddled close to his body. Even inside the room, the temperature was icy. At least the places in which their lips contacted were left warm. 

“This week has been so great,” John said quietly, head resting against Alexander’s neck. “I’m sad I have to go back…”

“We’ll still be able to talk,” Alexander reassured, trying to keep the gloominess out of his own tone. 

John nodded, but his thoughts were still occupied. _But we won’t have moments like these,_ he wanted to argue. The small, hidden box of condoms felt like a brick in his pocket. He inched closer to the other boy and they rested in silence for a while. _Shit...if I can’t do it now, we’ll probably never have the chance again!_ “Uhm, Alexander?” The entreaty broke through the silent air. 

“Hm?”

“Do you,” John sat up a bit to make eye contact. “Do you think we’re ready for … _sex_?”

The speed in which Alexander shot up caught John off guard. “Sex?” he repeated. “As in, _with you_? _Me_ and you?” In any other circumstance John would have laughed at his reaction, but he just nodded instead. Alexander bit his lip as if that would contain his excitement. “I-I think we’re ready. I mean, at least I am - are, are you ready; do _you_ want to?”

John grinned in relief. “I...I think I do,” he replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the condoms he bought. “And I, uhm, got these in case we need them-”

Alexander’s laugh cut him off. “Yes; we’ll definitely need those.” He kissed him for a few minutes, but the thought of John’s extremely homophobic environment entered his mind. “Wait,” he pulled away and saw a flash of fear in John's eyes. “In every way, I don’t mean to offend you, but...are you a virgin?”

To his surprise, John shook his head. “Not really...there was a girl back in London, and we never saw each other again after that.”

“But never with another male?”

There was that flash of fear again. “No…”

“It’s fine,” Alexander reassured, stroking his hair. “That's okay; don’t worry.”

“Well...what about you?” John asked lowly. 

“Me?” he reiterated. It had been so long since he considered himself a “virgin”, with all the flings he had over the years. Now that he reexamined his past affairs, however, he realized he was on the same boat as John: he had had sex with females before, and despite getting close to, had never yet had sex with another male. “Not with a boy,” he answered slowly. 

Like the shock of reality barging in, the cold air penetrated their clothes as their movement ceased. At that moment, the boys realized they were just two teens who had absolutely no idea what they were doing. John felt a surge of panic. “Alexander, I really want to do this,” he told him, hand on the back of his neck. “But I’m gonna be honest right now. I get what we're supposed to do, but not really how to do it safely.”

Alexander nodded in agreement and searched for his phone that slipped out of his pocket while they rolled on the bed together. “I didn’t think we’d search this while we were here,” he sighed in amusement, opening Google. “‘How to have safe gay sex’,” he talked as he typed. John’s face burned in embarrassment at having to educate themselves while they were about to do the act itself, but that quickly gave way to relief at having finally understood what they were supposed to do. His feelings transformed into eagerness to continue while Alexander was sent back to the store to buy lube. 

The small heater in the room finally built up enough warmth inside when Alexander came back. Heart beating in anticipation, John eagerly helped him shed his coat and the shirt underneath. More articles of clothing were tossed aside as they made their way over to the bed. It was the first time either of them had ever seen the other completely nude; the heightened sense of vulnerability that accompanied them only brought them closer. 

At first, of course, the two boys were awkward in their movements. The lube was outrageously slippery, but it did make the process incredibly easier. As they overcame their awkwardness, they at last found a steady rhythm to follow. The feeling was like nothing John had ever experienced; the one night stand he and the girl had in England withered in comparison to their actions now. 

As he and Alexander laid together under the covers, panting from the exertion and the rush of pleasure, John couldn’t help but feel like a changed person. Just a couple hours before, he was pent-up, anxious, and emotionally closed off. However, in just the past half hour alone, Alexander had opened him up like a flower. Usually so weak and self-conscious when vulnerable like that, John instead felt supported by the other boy. The two were now connected in a way he never thought possible. The feeling of gratitude and love that washed over him was so beautiful tears were almost brought to his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured softly into Alexander’s ear before closing his eyes.

###### 

The night in Niagara Falls replayed itself over and over in John's mind even after the boys split states again. 

John had only been back to South Carolina for two days when the winter storm hit Central United States and the New England area. “They’re calling it ‘Snowvember’, John,” Alexander told him over the phone after the third continuous barrage of snow tumbling down from the sky. “Sounds cute, right? But it’s total Hell here.”

“Well, technically if it was Hell, it would be super hot,” John couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be snarky, but his smile dropped when he didn’t hear any sort of reaction on the other end of the line. “Alexander? Are you okay?”

He strained his ears to hear the response. “I’m scared, John,” Alexander finally confessed. “I feel trapped.”

He sounded so broken. Charleston had gotten quite a bit of snow that winter as well, but John could hardly imagine the amount Alexander had to deal with further up north, so close to the water. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay with me.” The request was so simple, but carried much weight in the company of Alexander’s cracking voice. 

“Okay,” John answered plainly, setting his phone to speakerphone. He was sitting alone in his room, preparing to work for his upcoming classes. “Do you want me to keep talking?”

“Only if you want to,” Alexander rubbed his face as he sat on his dorm bed. The snow outside fell at a rate that made him anxious. _What if it doesn’t stop?_ Roads all over the state were already closed off and he heard news reports of people in Boston being trapped in their own homes. The nervousness of the winter storm became too much for him to handle alone. “Just knowing you’re there is enough.”

“Alright,” John smiled sadly down at his phone. Alexander put so much faith in him; he just hoped he never let him down. At first they made some small talk while John studied, but eventually they settled into a comfortable quiet. His breathing and the scratching of John’s pencil on the paper was the only thing Alexander heard as he pressed the phone close to his ear, but the noise was enough to distract him from the danger of the snow. 

The winter storm lasted about a week, though repercussions were felt in the areas hit the worst for months afterwards. On nights John was unavailable to talk, or when Alexander needed instant relief, he would play the recording of John doing their counting exercise on his phone. Though over three years old, the recording was still able to calm his nerves. Even on the most frigid nights, Alexander was able to fall asleep in a fitful comfort, replaying the recording and the warm memories he and John shared over the years.

###### 

Everyone on the East Coast could not have willed Spring to come faster any more than they had the past few months. There was much rejoicing when the snow at last melted in major parts of the cities hit by the storm. It was at last the year 2015; John could almost feel change in the wind as the nature around him shook the last bit of snow off. Though he was unable to visit Alexander during the winter, he still talked to him almost daily. All his other time was spent working on his studies, as per his father’s wishes. 

True to his promise from last year, John’s philosophy professor, Thomas Paine, created a class assignment to attend Charleston’s annual Spoleto Festival. On the day of the art festival, Paine tracked down John to show him around. “Laurens, I am relieved you were able to come to this event,” Paine told him with a smile as they walked. “I assure you that it will be worth it; the festival always seems to inspire young artists such as yourself.” He shaded his eyes from the high sun that beat down on them. “I am also very glad the weather has cleared up so much in time for the festival. This past winter has been quite--” he fished in his pocket for a pair of sunglasses before setting them on his nose “--the American crisis.”

John couldn’t help but speculate how many sunglasses Professor Thomas Paine kept on him, and why a distinctive “YEEEEAHHHHHH!!!” would sound in the distance whenever he put them on. He didn’t have much time to speculate, however, as Paine led him toward a distinguished looking building. 

“Now, Laurens, we seem to have another type of _crisis_ on our hands,” he explained as they walked. “See, this festival is run by volunteers, but it’s the sponsors behind the scenes who _really_ run the show. One of our big sponsors is threatening to pull out their funds, though. They claim the festival doesn’t have enough patrons; not enough inspiration to really make a difference. I, myself, am a huge supporter of this event; I donate every year; I house artists; I even occasionally help write some of the theater productions. Thinking that the festival ‘doesn’t make a difference’ is pure blasphemy!” Paine punctuated his words with a flick of the pen in his hand, as if he were already pointing to those he was complaining about. “That’s where you come in.” He now jabbed his pen at John. 

“ _Me?_ ”

“Yes, _you_ , Laurens,” Paine rolled his eyes, as if his plan was already painfully obvious. “ _You_ are going to help us get the funds necessary.”

“But this is my first time here!”

“Not a problem.” They were fast approaching the building. “Just be who you are: a rising artist, eager to learn, but who has no other way to expose yourself to the arts outside of the Spoleto Festival.” Paine opened the door for both of them and leaned in to say quietly: “A word of warning, however: the gentleman you will be trying to convince is French. He can be a bit abrasive and unrestrained.” John gave him a pleading expression but Paine simply pushed him inside.

John finally consented to talk to the sponsor only if Paine accompanied him. They found the room where the meeting would take place. “Charles Gravier!” Paine greeted the man already inside warmly. “Please, meet one of my students, John Laurens.” He and John shook hands and the latter was struck with how much he reminded him of his father. Gravier had a strong, intimidating stature with a hard-set jaw; an expression obviously used to - and prepared to - dealing out rejection. Despite just meeting the man, John already possessed a sour impression of him. “Like I promised, here’s someone who can vouch for the festival making a difference. John?” Paine nudged him forward. 

John fumbled for words. “Ah, well, sir, personally, the Spoleto Festival does make a difference in my life,” he recited the phrases that Paine told him to say moments before. “I’m actually a student who is very eager to learn about the arts. With your contribution, I would be able to learn about the art field in the real world through the festival. ”

Both he and the sponsor knew the argument was weak. Gravier crossed his arms and spoke for the first time, his French accent polishing the sharp words. “Do you not ‘ave ze world wide web? Are you not able to look up facts about ‘ze arts’ on your own? You can turn on your Public Broadcasting System channel and watch your Bob Ross for free. You ‘ave more information about ‘ze arts’ for free on your little phone than this entire festival.” He cocked his head to the side. “Why should I throw away money for this festival; especially for-” Gravier glanced John up and down - “amateurs such as yourself?”

John felt his fists clench. Something about the man’s face – his snide expression; his fat cheeks; or his challenging eyes – made him look so _punchable_. It would be so easy to wipe that smile off his face. A well-placed jab could easily knock him down a couple notches. At this point, Alexander would usually notice his change in behavior and work to contain his anger. However, Alexander was not here to stop John. John had only himself to restrain; though he did learn from Alexander and worked to fight back verbally rather than physically.

“Well, sir,” he dragged the “r” sound like a bag of rocks across the ground. “Some of us ‘amateur artists’ aren’t professional because we have not been given the tools – and knowledge – to do so. Imagine learning calculus without a calculator; or trying to learn chemistry without the Periodic Table. That would be insane, right?” John said the last bit with a sarcastic, whiny laugh which seemed to catch Gavier off guard. “One thing our public schools are utterly failing in are educating youths about the arts. The arts and language department in schools nationwide are the first for budget cuts, and the last for budget distribution. How are artists able to learn if they were denied the chance from their public schools? This festival is open to everyone; everyone is able to have some proper knowledge about the arts.”

“Zhere are museums, no?” Gavier retorted. “Et art colleges in ze state? Those who are interested should seek to learn.”

“Sometimes that’s not always possible. Art schools are expensive as Hell and even if one can afford tuition, there’s still that fucking _stigma_ that art has no future!” The words rolled out of John's mouth before he had a chance to filter them. He was in full rant-mode now; articulating the words he wish he had the guts to yell at his father. “But, _guess what?!_ Art is everywhere. Real artists with real careers, design T-Shirts, websites, banners, logos, advertisements, animations; you name it. This festival is maybe the only chance for someone – like me – to get any exposure to seeing how making art can be translated into making a career. So if your donations are the one thing that’ll shut down this event, then have fun living in a world without fuckin’ _art_. I know I wouldn’t want to be in one.” With the final statement spat out, John stormed out the office and out the building.

His heart beat loudly in his ears, though he couldn’t tell if it was from anger or fear. Too upset now to enjoy the art festival, John walked quickly back to his house, a feeling of shame rising to his face. _Did I just single-handedly destroy the Spoleto Festival?_ He inwardly groaned, picturing the most likely future events. “ _Punk Yells about Art; Spoleto Festival Canceled_ ”, he imagined the headline would read. Despite feeling utterly idiotic by his unrestrained actions, John couldn’t help feeling a seed of pride. For once in his life, he stood up for himself – not with his fists as he had done in the past, but with _words._ John finally felt like he understood why Alexander got himself into so many debates.

 

The next day, John was hesitant to enter Professor Paine’s philosophy class. He was fully prepared for Paine to kick him out after his outburst at Gravier, but instead he heartily patted John on the back. “Laurens, that was quite a show!” Paine laughed, each word accented by another pat. John just looked at him incredulously. “True, your approach was a bit… _undiplomatic_ ,” he downplayed, “but nevertheless, Gravier was moved by your passion. After you left, I did a little more coaxing, and he has agreed to continue sponsoring the festival.”

“Thank God,” John smiled wide in relief.

Paine reciprocated and began to head to his lecture podium. John followed. “You know, deep down, it could be argued that it is the right of all artists to be inspired. If you look at it another way, all patrons being able to enjoy the festival are,” Paine paused to put on his sunglasses, even though they were indoors, “Rights of _man_.” John glanced over his shoulder as a student in the back of the room hollered, “YEEEEAHHH!!!” When he turned back to Paine, the professor displayed a countenance of pure pride. For the first time, John realized how long it had actually been since he had seen that expression given because of his actions. “Good work, kid. The festival could always use more people like you.”

###### 

Summer had officially begun. In early June, both John and Alexander were released for summer vacation. Aaron and Alexander were planning to move out of their dorm at the end of the month to live with their adopted parents back in Washington State over the summer. Alexander invited John up to New York to visit them one last time before they left. Thanks to John’s high grades on his final report card, the approval process of visiting Alexander was a bit easier. However, that didn’t stop John's father from pointing out the faults in John's work before leaving. 

“A 3.0 in Anthology, Jack?” Henry Laurens questioned with a raised eyebrow when John handed him his final grades of the semester. Ever since Paine’s praise of his persuasion to receive the funds for the festival, John had begun to take pride in his work again. So when his college’s quarter grades were finalized, he proudly printed them off to show his father, in the hopes that he would be impressed by them as well. John’s hopes fell as flat as a deflated balloon as Henry Laurens’ eyes, like so many other times, barely skimmed over the 3.8 and up grades John received in other classes to point out the low outlier. “Why is this one so low?” he continued as John continued to become void of pride.

“The material was difficult,” was really the only thing John could say. He rubbed the stone on his bracelet nervously. 

Henry Laurens responded with a deep sigh and took off his glasses. “That doesn’t give you an excuse to not work hard.” The jagged words cut deep into John’s chest. 

John wanted to point out the other grades listed on the paper; the grades that translated to A’s and a high GPA count. He wanted to tell him that his GPA actually _increased_ over the last quarter because of how many hours he committed to his studies. He wanted to remind him that C’s and B’s riddled his younger siblings’ report cards, and his contained only a single low score. He wanted to do all these things, and more, and had wanted to do them for so many years. However, the day had been long. Every day had been too long for years. It was just _so much easier_ to not argue. “Yes, sir,” John finally replied after a deep breath and with as little growl as possible. With a quick pivot, he swiftly walked away and disappeared inside his room. 

_Just two more days,_ he told himself; he would have to simply get through the time in his home until he made the flight to New York. With shaky hands, John roughly tugged his hair into a bun, stabbing bobby pins into the thick of the mess. The sting he felt at the back of his head was likely caused by piercing his scalp with the pins, but he didn’t care; the pain only heightened his senses. John grabbed a beat up sketchpad, plopped himself in front of his turtles’ tank, and began to sketch. Drawing his turtles always seemed to calm him down; to almost slow his thoughts and emotions down by matching the turtles’ lax movements. Plus, it served as an excuse to harshly scribble on his paper in order to fabricate his turtles’ dark pigment. 

After a few minutes, he heard a knock on his door and someone entered his room. “John?” the voice asked quietly. He half-hoped the person to be his father, but instead recognized the voice to be his sister Martha, though he still didn’t turn around to acknowledge her presence. “John,” Martha repeated, standing behind him now while he furiously sketched. “You alright? Your hair’s a _mess_ ,” she giggled slightly, noticing his sloppily tied bun. 

“I don’t care,” John hissed with more malice than he wanted. His sister didn’t deserve the hate, he knew that, but right now she was the only person the anger could be directed toward. He winced as Martha pulled out a bloody bobby pin from his hair. 

With an exasperated sigh, she left the room and came back with some tissues and Bacitracin. Her slim fingers worked to remove all the pins John had stuck in his hair - most of which were now wet with his blood - and expertly tied a high bun on his head so as to clean and treat the cuts he made. Surprisingly, this was not the first time Martha had to help her brother after he accidentally hurt himself in his anger. At least, she could only hope they were accidents. 

“Do you hate Dad?” Sudden and direct, Martha pulled the question out like a number in a raffle; it caught John off-guard. He finally spun around to look at her, but cringed as the movement highlighted the pain in his head. 

“What? N-no, I wouldn’t say I hated him…” John answered after a pause. Yes, his father was an incredibly difficult person to communicate with and to generally be around, but it wasn’t all bad. After all, since his mother passed, he became the sole provider of their family; his children certainly weren’t abandoned. John supposed their main disputes together arose from his father trying to steer his life the way he wanted to, and himself trying to meet his impossible expectations. Henry Laurens was indeed hard to live with, but he didn’t _hate_ him for it.

“Okay, great,” Martha stated flatly, crossing her arms. “Then do you think Dad hates _you_?” To this, John struggled to reply. “Alright, then I’ll tell you the right answer,” she announced in response to his silence. “He doesn’t hate you. He just has very high expectations of what you should do with your life, and sometimes that may come across as him trying to control your decisions. He does that with all of us, really, in different ways,” she gently lay a hand on his shoulder. “John, believe it or not, he _loves_ us. Try to be more open to him. He just wants to make sure we take advantage of our opportunities while we have the time...especially when so many don’t have them anymore.” They both eyed the stone bracelet on John’s wrist, thoughts of their lost siblings swirling in their minds. 

John set down his pencil and leaned into Martha’s hand, pensive over the reasons behind his father’s actions. “S’Just something to think about,” his sister pat his shoulder one last time before leaving the room. He turned to watch her go, the striking emptiness of the room becoming suddenly apparent. 

Finally, John turned back to his work and slowly began to sketch again, his movements against the paper much heavier. _Just two more days,_ he repeated to himself, willing to dismiss all other thoughts of his father from his mind.

###### 

“Holy shit, is this real?”

“It must be; it’s on so many different news sources.”

“ _In all 50 states, though?!_ What’s the catch?”

“This is amazing,” Alexander laughed, staring down at his phone and reading the online news article that was on it. It was June 26; John had been staying with him in New York for the past few days, and the result of the Supreme Court case Obergefell v. Hodges was just released. “‘In a long sought victory for the gay rights movement, the Supreme Court ruled in a _5-to-4 vote that the Constitution guarantees a right to same-sex marriage’_ ,” Alexander read out loud. He turned to the other boy, a huge grin plastered on his face. “This is real!” John laughed in exhilaration and swooped him up in a big hug, dancing around the dorm room. 

New York’s gay pride parade was happening only a couple days later on the 28th. Because of the recent legalization of gay marriage in the entire U.S., the celebration was wild. Alexander convinced John to attend the parade, and they walked the streets with the massive crowd, other’s joy compounding upon their own until they were all cheering for no apparent reason. There were more same-sex couples walking openly together than either of them had ever seen before. Alexander thought it a bit sad that there was only one day in the year that people like them would ever be comfortable being open with their partners. 

As they walked hand in hand, they witnessed several marriage proposals and many, many tears of joy. It was such a beautiful sight to see two elderly women with linked arms slowly making their way down the street ahead of them. Alexander couldn’t help wondering if he and John would ever be able to stay together that long. It was certainly a nice future to envision, but one thing had to happen if they even wanted to try. 

As dusk fell, the boys made their way back to the empty dorm. Aaron had moved back to Washington State a couple days ago, and John and Alexander would have been penitent if they passed up the opportunity to use the private space to their fullest advantage. In short, the left over condoms and lube from John’s last visit came in quite handy. 

“This week has been great; today was great; _you_ are great,” John mumbled into Alexander’s ear, kissing his neck once the dorm’s door was closed. “I love you so much.”

Alexander smiled and angled his face to give him a kiss on the lips. “I love you too.” He attempted to pick him up bridal style but could only manage to half-carry him over to his bed before plopping him down. John stared up with a grin, resting his weight on his hands behind him and expecting him to join him on the bed. However, Alexander remained standing with crossed arms. “I think we need to talk, though.”

“Did I do something wrong?” John’s smile dropped. 

Alexander sighed and took a seat. “No, no, you’ve done quite the opposite,” he reassured, twiddling a lock of John’s hair in his fingers. “Listen: I love you. I love you _so fucking much._ You are my best friend; you help me get through my darkest moments; since we’ve known each other, my life has _significantly_ improved.” John began to blush at the comments, but Alexander continued. “My dear, dear J,” he said softly, “I want to be with you; I want to share every moment with you. But...I need to know if you feel the same way. We’ve been together for almost two years now, and still can’t label ourselves. So...I guess what I’m trying to ask is, will you be my boyfriend?”

John smiled wide and grabbed Alexander’s hand. “This has got to be the easiest answer in the world,” he joked. “Of course we can be boyfriends. I think that label has been a long time coming.” The other boy laughed and almost knocked him down with the force of his kiss. It felt like the entire weight of not knowing the exact definition of their relationship was finally lifted from their shoulders. However, there was still yet another chain John was burdened with. “Now that we’re officially ‘boyfriends’,” he air-quoted the word as if it were new to his dictionary, “I think...I think I’m going to tell my family.”

Alexander stared back in surprise; it hadn’t been his intent at all to pressure John to come out publically. “R-really?”

“Yeah.” He nodded with downcast eyes, recalling how Martha suggested him to be more open with their father. “I am just so sick of hiding it all the time. I am so sick of all this self-loathing and - and _self-deprecating bullshit!_ ” Alexander placed a hand comfortingly on his back as his hands clenched into fists. “Y’know - if I have finally learned to accept it, then maybe he - they - will too. 

Taken aback by John’s sudden anger, Alexander could only give him a tight hug and a kiss on the head. “Just do whatever you think is right,” he whispered. “And just remember: your _boyfriend_ will always have your back.”

In the wake of Alexander’s calmness, John began to feel a bit self-conscious of his outburst. But the new label to their relationship did make him smile; it would definitely take some getting used to thinking them as boyfriends. He sank into his arms and soon the two settled down for the night. In the morning, Alexander would pack his bags to fly back to Washington State while John would fly back to South Carolina, where he would present his family with the news. 

_My boyfriend..._ John repeated to himself, pressed tightly against Alexander’s chest. How long would it be before the label finally sunk in? For just a moment, John was immensely jealous of the other boy. _He’s been so comfortable with his sexuality for so long...Meanwhile, I’ve been here, lying to myself for nearly two decades. How does he do it?_ John breathed a sigh of content as Alexander hugged him closer in his sleep. Well, however Alexander was able to be so confident in his own skin, John was extremely grateful to be so fortunate as to have him in his life. He closed his eyes and prayed that he was able to be as strong as Alexander for whatever he was going to face back home.

###### 

_“Hamilton doesn’t hesitate. He exhibits no restraint; he takes and he takes and he takes, and he keeps winning anyway. He changes the game he plays and he raises the stakes…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed all the Sexy TimesTM in this part; though I had to keep the Teen rating, so that scene is super vague. Also, you see? Henry Laurens does seem to have a reason to his jerkiness after all~
> 
> This chapter is perhaps my favorite; not only is it really fluffy and has Thomas Paine puns, but because I managed to work in Alexander Hamilton screaming, " _PAY YOUR FUCKING TAXES!!_ "
> 
> Just one more to go!


	6. 2015-2016

“It’s over, Eliza. It’s all over,” Alexander whimpered into the girl’s shoulder. She did her best to console her friend’s shaking back. “All this work…and it’s gone in an instant. How could this happen to me?” he continued to blubber.

“Okay, _now_ you’re getting ridiculous,” Eliza pushed him away. “Alexander, it was just a movie. They’re going to release the second new Star Wars next year, so it’s not over.”

Alexander pretended to wipe away a tear. “I suppose you’re right,” he sighed and they continued to walk back to Columbia University. They had just finished watching Star Wars: The Force Awakens at a local movie theater. Thanks to Eliza’s insistence, he had recently watched the entire Star Wars saga, and was now a huge fan. The school’s winter break seemed like a good time to witness the newest chapter, and the movie, he felt, was a great addition to the storyline.

Various coat colors were the only hues seen on the grey street. Snowflakes fell lazily from the sky, their lax descent making the entire city run slower. Alexander stared up at the pure grey sky as they walked, reminded of the snowy day he, Eliza, Peggy, and John spent together their sophomore year of high school. He recalled their fits of laughter during their snowball fight, and the notes they had left on the Before I Die wall back in downtown Mount Vernon. There was so much more time on their hands back then; truly, it felt like a better era. Eliza, seeming to read his thoughts, linked an arm with his. “This brings back some memories, huh?”

Alexander nodded. A falling flake melted on his cheek. _I kissed John that day,_ he remembered his now-boyfriend’s flustered expression as he wiped away the snowflake from his face. _But only on the cheek._ Alexander wished he had the hindsight then to realize John felt the same way as he did, so that he could have done something more that day. _So much time wasted needlessly pining…_

“Oh, John is going to come up here in a couple days,” he informed Eliza. She felt compelled to retract her arm, but kept it firmly looped around Alexander’s.

“John _Laurens?_ ” she asked with mock confusion, as if there could be anyone else Alexander could be referencing. “Why, I haven’t seen him since graduation.” This last bit was true, though she always knew when John was in New York; Alexander would all but disappear from the face of the Earth during his visit.

“Yeah; maybe we could have a little reunion,” Alexander offered, but knew the notion was farfetched. Despite them both being close to himself, John and Eliza never cared much for each other. “Well, here you are,” he announced, stopping in front of her sorority.

“Have a nice evening,” she giggled as he pecked her hand, and made her way up the stone steps. After making sure she was safely inside, Alexander walked back to his dorm where he began to prepare for John’s arrival.

Fortunately, he and Aaron were able to be roommates again that year. Unfortunately, that meant there was again a clear divide in the room’s cleanliness. On all accounts, Alexander could not wait for John’s visit. It would be the first time he’d seen John since he came out to his family. From what John told him what happened over the phone, it seemed to go fairly well, though it did take a little while longer for his father to come around. 

“I called the whole family to one room,” John had told him in a breathy rush. “My father, Martha, Harry, even little Mary, though she didn’t really know what was happening. Anyways, I just up and say: ‘I just wanted to tell you all that I’m gay’. Mary yawns, Harry kinda smiles, and Martha exclaims very loudly: _‘Called it!’_ ” He chuckled a bit. “But, my father – he doesn’t say anything. All my other siblings start asking questions about how I knew, who else I told, and all that; but he just continues to stare straight ahead. Then, all my siblings kind of disperse because the show’s over, y’know? So it’s just my father and I left alone, starin’ at each other. Then he gets up, walks over to me--” John paused for emphasis and Alexander held his breath “--and then he kind of claps his hand on my back. We certainly haven’t talked very much since then, but I just think he’s still trying to wrap his head around the whole thing. I thought I was going to be disowned or something, but this…this is a nice end.”

Alexander smiled to himself as he pictured John’s announcement. The boy was likely a nervous wreck about coming out. He remembered how vehemently John had denied his sexuality during their freshman year of high school. The growth he made to not only accept himself, but to also stand up for who he was, was astounding.

“I’m so glad I was actually able to do it,” John had told him. “I just felt like a coward hiding it all these years.”

Alexander had smiled in pride. “Laurens, you _redefine_ bravery,” he had said firmly, but he wanted to show him how proud he was in person. So, once again, he was working his ass off to save enough money to fly John up to New York.

Word of Alexander’s editing service spread across the campus like wildfire. Left and right, students were wanting to hire him to edit their classroom essays, job applications, research papers, love letters. He was up to his neck with clients. Noticing how increasingly run-down he became, Aaron suggested he begin to turn some students away, but Alexander refused.

“It’ll just be translated into more money, Aaron,” he explained with exasperation one late night he spent typing. “When you got skin in the game, you _stay in the game._ But you don’t get to win unless you play in the game,” he had mumbled to both Aaron and himself. With such a horrible work pattern, it was no wonder Alexander looked like a walking zombie when John came up to visit.

“I tried to tell him to stop,” Aaron told John outside the dorm, of which Alexander was still working inside. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The only noise inside the dorm room were the spastic clacks of a keyboard. With his bag of clothes on his shoulder, John peeked inside to see Alexander working furiously at his desk, his side of the room almost a spitting image of the first time John saw it. He wondered how many typos Alexander was making by typing that fast – or if he could even comprehend what he was writing at that speed. John made plenty of noise walking through the sea of papers and empty energy drink cans on the ground, but still Alexander did not turn around. After waiting unsuccessfully for him to acknowledge him, John gently tapped his shoulder and called his name.

His hand barely touched Alexander before the boy flinched so violently he hit the lamp on his desk. “John! I didn’t hear you come in!” Alexander exclaimed, rubbing his head. He quickly pushed his chair back to stand up, but only managed to become unbalanced and stagger in place.

“Easy, easy…” John chuckled, grabbing his sides for support. Noticing the other boy’s bloodshot red eyes, he asked, “Where are your glasses?” Alexander gestured vaguely toward his bed and John spent a while searching for them. At last, he found the spectacles pushed roughly into the bed underneath a textbook and carefully placed them on Alexander’s face. “I think staring at that screen so long is ruining your eyes,” he said with concern but Alexander just shrugged it off. “When was the last time you took a break?”

Alexander glanced out the window at the darkening sky. “I…I can’t quite say,” he admitted.

“Then when’s the last time you took a shower?”

“...Friday,” he mumbled.

“Alexander, today is _Tuesday._ ” John threw up his hands. Why he was expecting Alexander to take care of himself more this year than the last, he had no idea. “Here’s what we’re gonna do now:” he laid his hands on Alexander's shoulders and spoke with finality. “You are going to go take a shower while I pick up all these cans. Then you are going to come back and tell me where to put these papers. I will finish cleaning up your room while you get some needed sleep.”

“I’m barely even tired!” Alexander lied. “And I don’t want to leave all the cleaning to you. Why can’t you come with me?”

“To the _shower?!_ ” Alexander nodded in response. John paused. “Would you finally agree to take the damn shower if I was there?” Again he nodded, a bit more excited. “Get your stuff, then,” John sighed as he did what he was told.

Alexander gathered up a change of clothes, his shower supplies, and presented John a pair of flip flops. “Here; these are for you. Well, they’re Aaron’s. But you don’t want to take a shower barefoot in there.”

“Wait, I was just going to be there for like, moral support. I wasn’t actually going to take a shower with you.” John noted the two towels in Alexander’s arm.

“We’ll save some water if we do it at the same time,” Alexander cooed.

John rolled his eyes as the other winked, but eventually agreed to go nonetheless. Due to the late hour, they were the only ones in the showering area, so no one could question why the two boys entered only one stall. Getting clean in the shower together was ironically the dirtiest thing either of them had ever done. Although there was no actual intercourse, there was a lot of rubbing and massaging to get clean. They felt almost scandalous as they undressed one another and stepped under the hot water. Their long hair became quickly plastered to their heads, which did make it a bit difficult to coordinate their movements.

Still determined to make sure Alexander had a proper shower, John massaged some soap onto his back. His spine stuck up like the spikes of a stegosaurus, he realized with concern. There was also a stark contrast from his tan skin tone to Alexander’s extreme paleness. _Just how many hours does he spend hunched over his laptop?_ Worrying now would get him nowhere, so John instead focused on kneading out the tight knots he felt in Alexander’s shoulder blades. The other boy bit his lip to stop himself from moaning in response. He made a mental note to repay John later for finally loosening up his back.

They turned the water off temporarily so that John could wash Alexander’s hair. It was so greasy he found it needed to be washed twice. Though, John didn’t mind the excuse to continue running his fingers through Alexander's hair. He finished the routine with a generous amount of conditioner; mostly for the selfish reason of wanting his hair softer when it was dry. Alexander closed his eyes to the sensation and John took the moment to kiss him sweetly.

He felt Alexander kiss his neck and run his hands along his back as John rinsed his hair. It was so hard not to do anything more; their bodies were so tantalizingly close. But, of course, the shower stalls were only semi-private. Literally anyone was able to walk in the room at any time. That alone kept them from trying anything more.

They finished showering and made it back to the dorm, fresh clothes adorning their clean bodies. In the room, John did his best to try to find and discard all the empty energy drink containers scattered on the ground while Alexander picked up and organized his papers. The green Monster logo became the norm of the cans he found, though one can didn’t match the rest.

“Alexander, is this a _beer_ can?” John held up the yellow container. “You drink?”

“Yeah,” the other boy answered nonchalantly, pushing his damp hair out of his eyes. “But not very often; it kind of makes it hard for me to think as fast as I want. Plus, hangovers are a _bitch._ ”

“But isn’t your 21st birthday still a year away? I remember you quite clearly saying last year ‘I’m only 19 but my mind is older’. How’d you even get the beer?”

Alexander blinked for a few seconds. “I must’ve not told you, then. I’m turning 22 in January.” This threw John into a bit of a loop; he was under the impression they were the same age the entire time they’ve known each other. “Please don’t feel too bad you didn’t know; I lied about my age to everyone,” he clarified. “Immigrating to the U.S. and the whole not-knowing-English-while-in-the-foster-system thing kept me back a couple years. Of course, it would be a bit odd to announce to your classmates how much older you are to them, so…here we are.” John slowly threw the can away, trying to wrap his head around his age. “I’m just as surprised as you are,” Alexander laughed. “I never thought I’d live past twenty. See, where I come from, some get _half_ as many.”

John smiled, glad that Alexander did actually live long enough to be with him now. He shook his head and continued to clean the room.

Although he now saw the other boy through a different perspective, his age was not the only thing he saw in him. He was still his Alexander – his _boyfriend,_ and nothing could really take that away.

###### 

“’There’s nothing like summer in the city. Someone under stress meets someone looking pretty. There’s trouble in the air and you can smell it’-–“

“Aaron, pleeeease shut up,” Alexander groaned from his desk, his head in his hands. He had had the worst writer’s block for _days,_ and some of his clients were pulling out. No matter how much caffeine he pumped into his system, his body couldn’t be kicked into gear like usual, and he was just left with insomnia and a terrible migraine. The cold wintery days of February were the personification of how Alexander felt. He hadn’t slept in a week. He was weak, but he was still awake; he could never imagine another bastard-orphan more in need of a break. To make matters worse, he had snapped at John in his frustration and they hadn’t spoken to one another for over three days. Aaron had been attempting to make him take the night off, but he was in no mood for whatever synopsis he was reading off IMDB.

“Fine,” Aaron scoffed and closed his laptop forcefully, the noise like a stab to Alexander’s aching head. He knew that he should probably apologize to his brother, but he was already out the door.

 _There goes another one,_ he thought bitterly. Picking up his phone, Alexander contemplated calling Eliza. However, with the last two people he talked to now no longer on the best terms with, he opted to open up Google Maps instead. Alexander grabbed his wallet and let the GPS guide him toward the nearest liquor store.

Drinking for him was less to take a break and more to punish himself. _If I’m gonna feel like shit, I might as well have a physical reason to rather than a mental one,_ he reasoned with himself as he bought the alcohol.

He kept the cans well-hidden until he made it back to his room. Once inside, Alexander immediately began to drink. After the first can, he began to feel tipsy. After the second, he felt his mind and his movements begin to slow. He wiped his hair out of his face before downing a third can, then a fourth. He was halfway through his fifth before he heard a knock on the dorm door, though the sound barely registered in his already slowing mind. Alexander staggered to his feet and wiped his mouth before opening the door.

Outside was a woman he had seen around the campus, but had never talked to. She was shorter than him, and had a mass of curly hair flowing down her back. She clutched her coat around her like a security blanket, and her lips – of which he was drawn to the most – were painted a bright crimson red.

“I know you are a man of honor,” the woman began, her voice like velvet. It caressed his sore ears, making them feel renewed. Alexander’s slow eyes followed the movements of her lips as she talked. “I’m so sorry to bother you at home, but I don’t know where to go. And I came here all alone.”

Alexander blinked once slowly. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

The woman visibly shrunk and he felt a stab of guilt. “Maria Reynolds,” she told him after a pause. “And I know you’re Alex Hamilton.” He nodded and she gripped her coat tighter. “My boyfriend’s doin’ me wrong,” Maria explained. “He’s beatin’ me; cheatin’ me; mistreatin’ me…well, suddenly he’s up and gone. I don’t have the means to go on.” Alexander blinked again and tears were suddenly painted on her cheeks. His heart burst at the sight of her plight. 

He looked behind him into the messy room. “I’m sorry, you can’t stay here,” he informed her but reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “But here, let me give you some money for tonight, and I can walk you home.”

Maria wiped away a couple tears. “You’re too kind, sir.”

Alexander gave her the thirty bucks he had tucked away in his wallet and walked with her out of the dorms and to the apartment complexes. She only lived a block away and said, “This one’s mine, sir,” when they approached a building on the end. Alexander followed her up the steps to make sure she safely arrived at her door.

“Well, I should head back home,” he said, standing in the doorway and feeling woozy from the alcohol. Maria turned back to him, and turned red. Before he could react, she took him by the arm and led him to her bed, where she sat down and let her legs spread. Alexander now realized she had no clothes on underneath her coat. “Stay,” Maria almost sang.

“Heyyy…” Alexander drew out a breath uncomfortably, backing away from her.

“Heyyy,” Maria repeated in the same sing-song voice. She used one hand to close the door behind him and he felt his escape route disappear. Her face was so close to his he could smell the sickly-sweet perfume she had put on just hours earlier.

 _Say no to this; say no to this,_ Alexander prayed. He couldn’t be with Maria, though she looked utterly helpless. In his mind, he was already running away; running back through her apartment, down the steps, and back to his dorm. His mind screamed at him to _Go, go, go,_ but her mouth was on his and he couldn’t say no.

They were on her bed, or what he assumed to be, since the room was so dark. It felt like he was in a dream; the pressure of her hands working against his chest barely registering in his sluggish mind. Alexander must have tasted like alcohol, but Maria didn’t appear to care; she ravenously mashed her mouth to his in the same way a person starving would attack a meal. Alexander flinched as a bright light flashed and saw her poising her phone over them. He didn’t have much time to wonder why she was taking pictures before she twisted his face back toward hers. His kisses were so sloppy in his drunken state, but her lips – so much softer than John’s – worked with precision.

 _John…_ Alexander dwelled on the name, and blinked, as if finally realizing what he was doing. He struggled for the next couple minutes to get free, but Maria easily overpowered him. Only when her phone lit up with a text did she suddenly stop.

“He’s coming,” was the only thing he heard before she arose from the bed in a flurry. The next thing Alexander knew, he was standing outside in the cold, his jacket draped on his shoulders and his shirt – _When had that come off?_ – clutched in his hand. Maria must have whisked him out of the apartment, he figured as he began to walk back toward his dorm. He could still taste her lipstick in his mouth and her intoxicating perfume trailed behind him like a cape. Stopping to puke behind some bushes, his head cleared just a bit and the acidic taste in his mouth covered up any traces of Maria.

Alexander made it back to his dorm room and passed out on his bed. An hour later, Aaron returned and could only shake his head when he saw his brother sprawled out with his shirt off, beer cans littering the ground.

 

The morning after that night was awful, but the next few days were absolutely terrible as Alexander began to remember more and more details of the night. He recalled the smell of cherry perfume, bright red lips, and the strange taste of beer and another’s saliva in his mouth. As the night’s events replayed in his mind, his stomach turned over in immense guilt.

 _How could I do this to John?_ He paced his empty dorm, nervously picking at his nails. _I should have said no; I should have not let her take me inside; I shouldn’t have gone with her at all._ A ding sounded on his phone, and he looked down to see he had received an email from an unrecognized sender.

“’James Reynolds’?” he read aloud. _Wasn’t that Maria’s last name? Is this her brother?_ The email read:

> _Dear sir,  
>  I hope this letter finds you in good health, and in a prosperous enough position to put wealth into the pockets of people like me, down on their luck. You see, that was my wife you decided to-- _

“Fuck.” _Maria was married?!_ He continued to read the rest of the email, gleaming that her husband was threatening to publicly shame them for sleeping together if he did not pay him some money to keep quiet. Attached to the email was a picture of him and Maria kissing – probably one of the photos that she had taken on her phone that night. The shame in his chest bursted into rage. Alexander shoved his phone back in his pocket and raced to Maria’s place, knocking swiftly on her door.

She answered and he screamed, “How could you?!” in her face.

“No, sir,” Maria responded quietly, taken aback by his anger. Early in the morning, she was half dressed; apologetic; truly a mess, she looked pathetic and cried, “Please don’t go, sir!”

“So was your whole story a setup?” Alexander spat, shoving the email from her husband toward her.

Maria scanned the screen, her eyes going wide. “I didn’t know about any letter!” She gripped his coat like a life saver, but he shoved her away.

“Stop crying, goddammit, get up!”

“I didn’t know any better!” She wiped at her eyes and grabbed his arm again. “I wanted to leave him; I only took those pictures so that I could show him I moved on!”

“I am ruined…”

“Please don’t leave me with him; I am helpless.”

“ _I_ am helpless; how could I do this?!”

“Just give him what he wants and you can have me!” Maria placed a palm on his cheek. He quickly removed it.

“I don’t want you!”

“Whatever you want; if you pay, you can stay!” she cried, but Alexander was already out the door and down the street.

 _Say no to this; say no to this,_ he berated himself. Finding a bathroom, he ducked inside and hid in the privacy of a stall. He felt like a child again, helpless to save himself from the torrential acts of nature; helpless to save his mother; helpless to save himself or Maria. Flashbacks of his many foster care homes dug into his mind. He was helpless to moving away; helpless to his foster parents’ abuse; helpless to never being wanted; helpless; _helpless; helpless! There’s nothing I can do._ He shoved the palms of his hands against his closed eyes and breathed too quickly.

He was having another panic attack. If he didn’t stop hyperventilating soon, he would faint. Alexander fumbled for his phone and opened the saved file he always listened to when the real thing wasn’t available: John’s message left on his voicemail.

 _“Hey! I noticed that it was getting stormy…”_ Since the recording, nearly four years old at that point, John’s voice had gotten deeper, but it was still undeniably his. _“I won’t be able to call you tonight, so here’s a little recording of me doing our exercise to help you get through it…”_ It was just enough to know that a person, even states away, cared for him. _“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf…”_ the message played.

“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf…” Alexander repeated. Like all the other times he listened to the message and practiced the exercise, his breathing began to slow and his heart beat at a more normal pace. Sweat still tingled the back of his neck as he exited the bathroom and walked back to the university, a gameplan already forming in his mind.

Alexander recalled what he did in the last home of his foster care. He remembered first discovering how his foster father abused Aaron, and what he did to save them. If he was able to be the hero when they were kids, his confidence grew that he could be the same hero now. No 8-page document he wrote would ever be able to save Maria, however. He would have to pay James Reynolds.

He wouldn’t pay James to be with Maria; he would pay him to free Maria. From her pleading that one night to her cries that morning, it was clear she was in an abusive relationship and wanted to escape, just as he and Aaron were when they were trapped in the foster system. Alexander didn’t have any proof of the abuse himself, but if he was able to get Maria to speak on her behalf to the police, he might be able to help her.

However, paying her husband was the primary objective at the moment. From the intimidating email and Maria’s fear, it seemed he would be putting her in much more danger if he didn’t first give James what he wanted. The amount he was asking for was nearly everything Alexander had saved in his bank account from working as an editor. But he barely thought twice before withdrawing it all. _Her safety is much more important than whatever money I have._

Alexander sent the money to the address listed in the email. The next morning, he and a police officer who agreed to listen to Maria approached her apartment, but no one answered the door. The landlady informed them that Maria and James had moved out without notice late in the night, though all her possessions were left behind in the apartment.

Alexander’s stomach dropped with the guilt of not being able to save Maria.

###### 

The spring sun tickled John’s face as he worked. He was a volunteer for Charleston's Spoleto Festival that year, helping set up booths and galleries for patrons to enjoy. Paine suggested he volunteer at the art festival the previous year, and he decided to take up his offer. John was given free admittance to all the shows and galleries, which was a huge reward to working. When he wasn’t volunteering, he would peruse the event, taking in as much inspiration as he could. John felt well-liked among those he worked with and for once, accepted for who he was in his home town. In the evenings, he also made it a part of his routine to jog around the city. Though the workout wasn’t too difficult, the exercise made him feel alive, like he was actively working to improve himself. 

John even got a job through the festival. He met an artist while volunteering and began to talk to them about their art. By the end of their conversation, the artist began to recognize John’s potential. They invited him to work in their studio – mostly cleaning and organizing, but they offered to teach him a few new tricks while he was there as well. He enthusiastically agreed, and three times a week, he would be their employee/mentee. 

“I got a job and have been earning some money,” John told Alexander one day over the phone. “I have enough now to pay for half the airfare to New York! Maybe I can visit you sooner than expected!”

Instead of reciprocating his excitement, Alexander was oddly distant. “Um, about that…” John slowly stopped smiling. “I…I can’t pay for the rest of your ticket. I don’t have any savings left in my account.”

“Oh no.” John gripped his phone, thinking of all the nights Alexander had stayed up working to build his savings that have now gone to waste. “What happened? Was there a glitch in the system; were you robbed?”

“No, no…” Alexander sighed. “Just…a debt that wasn’t repaid,” he concluded vaguely. John frowned and there were a few seconds of awkward silence on both ends. “Hey, but listen; I’m going to fly back to Washington State this summer. Would you want to see each other then?”

John chewed the inside of his mouth. Tickets would be more expensive, but he would have a couple more months to save up enough. “Sure!” He said as cheerily as possible, in the hopes to bring whatever mood Alexander was having back up.

“Okay. I love you,” the other boy almost choked out.

“I love you, too,” John sighed softly before hanging up. He hated how Alexander would build a wall around himself whenever he had problems. The long distance between one another didn’t make it any easier either. He figured whatever was bothering him would sort itself out by the time they reunited in the summer, or they would just have to talk it through when the time came.

###### 

When the time did come, Alexander was a bit less distant in person than over the phone. He, Aaron, and even George had flown back to Washington State to stay with their parents for the entire summer, but John could only stay for a couple weeks in August. Though John had enough money to stay in a motel while he was visiting, Alexander’s family offered to house him. He, of course, spent nights in Alexander’s room, cuddled close against his body in the twin bed.

Since the whole Reynolds affair, Alexander was kept sorely awake at night with guilt; it was even worse when John was by his side. How could he have kept the secret of Maria from him for so long? _He has a right to know,_ Alexander told himself. _But there’s not really a delicate way to put it…_ He worried if he told John about Maria now, he would never forgive him. But the shame was eating away at his conscience; he would have to tell him one way or another.

While debating with himself, Alexander tried to make the most of his time with John while they were both in Washington. Skagit County, of which Mount Vernon belonged to, was famous nationwide for their tulip gardens. They spent a day together admiring the fields upon fields of the beautiful blooms, the shockingly bright hues exploding from the ground. Alexander gazed in amazement that something so monumentally pretty could have been grown in such dull Washington weather while John broke apart the colors and shapes to see how one would paint the scene before them.

“I heard they look the best in the springtime,” Alexander said quietly behind John. When he turned around, Alexander’s eyes were downcast. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to see each other in the spring.” It seemed like he was finally about to elaborate on whatever had been on his mind, but his mouth remained tightly shut.

John just gave his sweetest smile and kissed him. _I won’t push to tell me what’s bothering him yet…_

Over the next few days, they continued to tour around Washington, visiting all the places they didn’t have a chance to during high school. They saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time at Alki Beach, marveling at the calm waves and the many coastal tidepools hiding hundreds of tiny lifeforms on the rocks. The snow on Mount Rainier shone brightly under the summer sun, and Lake Chelan glistened like a pool of mirrors. They had to crane their heads back to witness the entire erection of the Seattle Space Needle and probably took way too many pictures inside the EMP Museum. The unmistakable scent to King BBQ’s freshly cooked sausage wafted past as they walked through Chinatown. Once again, John was struck with the same realization he had gotten his freshman year of high school: Washington State was beautiful. He felt so lucky to be able to witness it with Alexander.

Even though they had an immense amount of fun together exploring the state, John couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was deeply bothering his partner. Finally, one evening he had enough of waiting for Alexander to initiate talking about it. “Alexander, what’s been on your mind?” he asked once they were alone at the house. “You’ve been so distant all week.”

Alexander nearly told him he was fine, but stopped himself. “I…I actually have to tell you something.” He knew he couldn’t escape from John’s imploring eyes; he might as well get it over with. John followed him over to a couch in the house. “But before I do, I want you to know that I love you.”

“I love you too,” John chuckled nervously, reaching out to hold the other’s hands. “What is it?”

“I…” Alexander bit his lip. “Do you remember when I couldn’t pay for your airfare this year?” John nodded and he pulled out his phone, finding the email from James Reynolds. “Uhm, it might be easier to show you why.”

John skimmed the email quickly. “’…that was my wife you decided to _fuck’?!_ ” He read aloud, his volume rising with each word. He yanked his hands back. “We couldn’t see each other because you used all your money to _pay her husband?_ ”

Alexander flinched under the punishing words. “No! Well, I did pay him, but no – we-we didn’t… _fuck._ At least, I don’t think we did-–"

“Who the Hell is this?!” The other boy opened the attachment to the email to see the picture of his boyfriend and a woman kissing. Alexander’s eyes were closed – he feared from pleasure – but the woman, supposedly the wife to whoever wrote the email, was staring into the lens, as if she knew exactly what she was doing; as if she were mocking John.

“Her name’s Maria-–” John’s expression immediately turned into one of displeasure. “–-She came to my dorm one night and begged – _begged_ – me to help her –-”

“–-So you fucked her.”

“No! John, let me explain!” Alexander was now shouting too in the face of the accusation. “She was _begging_ me to help her from her husband. I – I didn’t know what to do; she was helpless! So I just walked her back, and she, well, started to kiss me.”

“Why didn’t you stop her?”

“I did, John, I really tried.” Alexander's eyes pleaded for John’s understanding. “But I was so drunk, I-–”

“Oh! And you were drunk!” John threw up his hands and stood. “That doesn’t give you an excuse, Alexander.”

Alexander’s worst fears of what might have happened were playing out before him. Ironically, like Maria, he desperately tried to get John to stay; to let him fully understand his perspective. John just maneuvered past him and stormed out the house. Alexander never felt more alone than in the silence that followed the door slamming shut.

 

It had been three days since Alexander confessed to John about Maria. John had rarely left the motel he had been staying at, allowing his anger toward his boyfriend grow and fester. In the evenings, he kept up his daily routine of running through the streets, but the runs were more based on anger rather than the joy of feeling alive. After each run, he would come back to the motel in a heavy pant, exhausted from pushing himself over his limits. There were usually several messages from Alexander left on his phone. For the first couple nights, John had ruthlessly ignored them, not even wanting to listen to whatever reason he had for being with Maria. On the third night, despite his sustained distaste for the other boy’s actions, John finally read all that he sent.

From what he could tell from Alexander's frantically apologetic texts, he truly wanted to help that woman – Maria. Even when he was drunk that night, he knew he couldn’t just close his door on the crying woman outside. Alexander relayed to him what he did after he paid her husband. _‘It looked an awful lot like domestic abuse. I called the police to help her, but by the time we arrived, they had already disappeared. I don’t think she was willing, though – all her stuff was still in the apartment.’_ John couldn’t help commiserating with him over the unknown fate of Maria.

 _Maybe he did just really want to help her,_ John slowly began to realize. Was that really all that surprising? Since they’d known each other, Alexander was always the one to see injustice and correct it; he was never afraid to speak his mind and to stand up for others. John recalled how quickly Alexander had worked to defend Angelica Schuyler after she was wrongfully fired; how passionate he was to fight for George’s honor; even how persuasive and vehement he was when debating Sam Seabury for John’s defense. It was just a part of who Alexander was to help others; how could he blame him for trying to help Maria?

John groaned loudly and fell back onto the motel bed. _He tried to open up and tell me something important…and I completely and utterly_ failed _to respond appropriately. How could I have been so thoughtless?_ He turned over to his side and saw his phone light up with a new voice message from Alexander.

 _“Hi, John,”_ his voice spoke through the speaker. It sounded broken. _“I know you’re still mad at me-–” No! Not so much anymore!_ John silently responded. _“–-and I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.”_ A pause. _“But...please, if you’re able to, meet me in the downtown center of Mount Vernon tomorrow morning.”_ Alexander’s sigh was barely audible over the speaker. He added a quiet, _“I love you”_ before ending the message.

 _God, he sounds so desperate,_ John thought with regret as he stared at the darkening screen of his phone. _How could I have done that to someone?_ Alexander was quite possibly the most important person John had in his life. From Alexander's many pleads to be forgiven, it appeared he was the same position for the other boy. “I really, really love him,” he confirmed aloud, deciding with resolve to meet with him in the morning.

 

At 6 AM, Alexander arrived in Mount Vernon’s downtown area and began to work before John’s arrival. He finished after an hour, and planted his feet on the sidewalk, scanning those passing him for John’s familiar freckled face. In the voicemail that Alexander could only hope John listened to, he didn’t give him a specific time to show up, but he was willing to wait all day if necessary. Finally, after another hour of waiting, John was seen walking in his direction. As he approached, Alexander felt like he was seeing him for the first time all over again. He admired the bounciness of the other boy’s hair curling around his large ears, and the eyes in which he had been given so much time to acquaint himself with were the prettiest shade he ever witnessed.

Before either of them could say anything, Alexander led John around the corner. At last, John recognized where they were. They were standing in the same spot as they had their sophomore year of high school, now over four years ago: in front of the Before I Die wall. He was put back in the shoes of his younger self, grateful to be beside Alexander, gazing in awe at the writing.

Erased and rewritten were layers upon layers of people’s hopes and dreams written on that wall. The section closest to them had been completely wiped clean. John took a double take as he read what was written in the blanks, in Alexander’s signature messy handwriting:

> _Before I die I want to hug John Laurens._
> 
> _Before I die I want to kiss John Laurens._
> 
> _Before I die I want to hold hands with John Laurens._
> 
> _Before I die I want to be with John Laurens._
> 
> _Before I die I want to be forgiven by John Laurens._

John felt his breath catch in his throat as he read through the notes Alexander had written. The notes, he saw, continued through the other sections of the wall. Just the sheer amount Alexander had to say about him was enough for him to feel quite moved. He turned slowly to the other boy, whose breath was held in anticipation for whatever John would do next.

Taking a step closer, John placed his hands on Alexander's waist. “I’ve wanted to do all these things for a long, long time,” Alexander told him, his eyes wide. “I just feel like I wasted _so much time_ being scared to do them. And now I’m scared I won’t be able to do them ever again.”

John smiled softly and the other boy felt his heart melt. “Well…before I die, I would want to forgive you.” He brought his head down to meet Alexander’s lips. “So I will.”

Alexander’s face broke into a grin as utter relief swept over him. _Forgiveness; can you imagine?_ Together, they walked back through the downtown, hand in hand. Even though they received a few stares, he felt like the luckiest person in the world to be with someone like John.

 

The two boys were scheduled to fly back to their respective states on the 25th of August. Before they left, they decided to make one final visit. They found a nearby park and spent the afternoon there. Alexander spread a checkered blue picnic blanket underneath the shade of a large tree and they sat down together.

Not much was said between the two, but neither minded very much. It was just nice to quietly enjoy the other’s company one last time before they went their separate ways. The day was so peaceful. A baby blue hue surrounded them in the sky, and at their feet, tufts of grass waved hello in the lazy wind. Soon Alexander had dozed off, relaxed in the comfort of the shade and in the presence of John. After a little while more, John laid on the blanket to join him in his rest. He rested his head on his shoulder, and draped one arm across his chest. John tried to match his rate of breathing with Alexander’s, and was soon drifting off to sleep, the other’s steady heart beat thumping against his arm.

As he closed his eyes for the final time, John remembered thinking that moment was the happiest he had ever been.

###### 

John went back to South Carolina while Alexander and Aaron flew back to New York. They were only back for a couple days before Eliza asked Alexander for help.

“I just need you to look over this one document,” she told him. He snatched up the essay she handed him with mock irritation.

“Clearly, I’m being used,” he complained as he brought the paper back to his desk. Eliza just laughed and sat on his bed while he worked to edit her paper. His dorm room was surprisingly clean for once, most likely because he didn’t have the time to completely trash it yet. She would have to ask Aaron how he managed to keep his side of the room so neat when he returned to the dorm that evening. She was so caught up contentedly watching Alexander working, she nearly jumped up when his phone vibrated next to her on the bed.

“Alexander? There’s a call for you,” Eliza beckoned to him, picking up his phone.

He glanced at the number and recognized Charleston’s area code. “It’s from John Laurens. I’ll call him back later,” he dismissed with a flick of his pen, but Eliza already had the phone to her ear.

“No.” She paused, covering the mouthpiece. “It’s from his father.”

“His father?” Alexander stopped writing, but didn’t turn around. “Will you listen to it?” he asked quietly.

Eliza stared at the back of his head while she carefully listened to Henry Laurens. Alexander didn’t move. He bit his lip in the silence, his heart thudding in his ears. Finally, Eliza hung up the phone and relayed the details to him.

“He said, ‘on the 27th, my son was out on his evening run. A distracted driver swerved off the road and hit him. He died on the way to the hospital.’” Eliza stopped, hoping Alexander would turn around to face her; to give her any indication of how he was reacting to the news. However, he kept his eyes stiffly trained ahead of him. “Alexander. Are you alright?”

“…” The world felt like it was crashing down on him. “…” He took a few deep breaths-– “…” –-and picked up the pen he hadn’t realized he dropped. “…I have so much work to do.”

Eliza waited a couple more moments by his side. Alexander wasn’t writing anything; just staring blankly at the paper in front of him. Finally, she figured it would be best for him to be left alone to cope with the news. She laid a hand comfortingly on his shoulder before silently departing from the room.

The door’s click woke Alexander up from his trance. He blinked a few times, trying to process what he had just heard. John was…… _dead?_ No…no, that’s not possible. _We literally just talked three days ago,_ he reasoned, remembering the sunny day they spent in the park together. _He – he talked about his job in the art studio; about the pieces he was planning to create. He had so much planned. There – there must be some sort of mistake, right?_

Alexander grabbed his phone where Eliza left it on the bed and desperately searched through his old messages. They had even _texted_ on the 27th, he realized. There was no way he was gone. But his fingers were shaking as he dialed John’s number. “Dammit,” he cursed as his phone was transferred to voicemail. _“Hi, I’m not able to come to the phone right now. Please leave your number and message after the tone,”_ John’s familiar voice spoke through the prerecorded message. Alexander hung up and dialed his number again.

One ring…two rings…three rings…the voicemail again. _“Hi, I’m not able to come to the phone right now. Please-–”_ He hung up and tried again.

More rings, another voicemail. _“Hi, I’m not able to-–”_

“Goddammit, just pick up the phone!” Alexander growled. He called again and again and again. John’s voicemail greeting was sounding less and less like him.

 _There’s still no way._ Alexander angrily set down his phone and paced around the room. _There’s some sort of mistake; the phone line’s probably busy._ He looked at his messages to see the last one he sent to John that afternoon. The text invited him to come up to New York to spend time with him and Eliza, though John hadn’t responded to it yet. Has he even seen it yet? His stomach dropped in dread at the next thought: _Did he even get a chance to see it, before…_

“No. No; there’s – no. He can’t be gone,” Alexander repeated to himself desperately. The more he said it, the odder the statement it became. “John isn’t – he…he can’t –” As his feet and his thoughts continued to circle, the words Henry Laurens said began to seem more and more like reality. Was there _actually_ a chance John could be dead? Never to see; talk; hear; love; again??

Alexander’s breaths came out fast. In one last attempt to be close to John, he opened the recording he had of him saved on his phone.

 _“Hey! I noticed that it was getting stormy. I won’t be able to call you tonight, so here’s a little recording of me doing our exercise to help you get through it,”_ the message picked up John clearing his throat, and Alexander shakily smiled at the small detail. _“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf…”_

“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf…” Alexander repeated in an uneven voice.

_“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf…”_

“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf…” he repeated again, closing his eyes and forgetting for a moment that it was only a recording he was speaking with. “Sept, huit, neuf,” he said quietly, expecting John to reciprocate and continue the exercise. But when he opened his eyes, the other boy was not with him; the message had stopped playing. “Sept, huit, neuf,” he whispered desperately, but again there was no response.

 _“Hey! I noticed that it was getting stormy. I won’t be able to call you tonight—”_ the repeated recording drove home that John’s voice in the room was just that: a recording. The room’s sudden and utter emptiness suffocated him. Alexander slowly stopped the message and blinked. That was when the tears began to fall freely from his eyes.

 _He won’t be able to call tonight…_ The realization dawned on him. _He won’t be able to call back_ any time… _anymore…_

For the first time in years, Alexander sobbed. His cries, though muffled by his bed, filled the entire room. Soon his shirt was soaked and his voice was left hoarse. Without restraint, his sobs racked his body, his back shuddering tremendously. Aaron came back a few hours later to find him curled up with his head between his knees, trying to breath. He did his best to console him, but it was a wasted effort.

The world felt so cold all of a sudden, like a candle had just been snuffed out. How could everything continue to happen all around him without taking notice that John was gone? Alexander imagined death so much it felt more like a memory to him, but he had never once imagined someone close to him dying. He never really had someone close to him _to_ worry about losing for such a long time. The impact of the news was devastating. Alexander couldn’t eat; he couldn’t sleep; he couldn’t write. For someone who wrote about _everything,_ the fact that he wasn’t able to for this moment drove him mad. It was truly a grief too powerful for words alone to convey.

###### 

“There are moments that the words don’t reach. There is suffering too terrible to name. You hold your child as tight as you can, and push away the unimaginable.” Henry Laurens paused. He, along with all the other guests of family members and friends at the funeral, was dressed all in black. He swallowed once, and continued his speech at the podium. “There are moments when you’re in so deep that it feels easier to just swim down. But we must learn to live with the unimaginable.” He looked up for the first time during his speech, his expression blank. Alexander heard a couple sniffles from where John’s siblings sat a couple rows ahead of him. “This has not been the first time I have had to bury one of my own children, though I hope this will be the last time.” His eyes were trained back down. “As many of you are already aware, you know how much potential John had. He was an extraordinarily gifted young man. He was a committed, hard worker... and my son. I cherished and loved John. I only ask now that we keep his memory forever in our minds and do our best to move forward.” He silently walked back to his seat and the next speaker got up to do their eulogy.

Alexander had been shocked when Henry Laurens asked him to write a eulogy for John’s funeral. Of course, he agreed to speak, but it was incredibly difficult for him to put into words exactly how he felt. How ironic that every night, his mind would trail back to John, but he couldn’t perfectly encapsulate who he was in his speech. Finally, on his flight to the funeral in South Carolina, he managed to come up with something. When it was his time to give his eulogy, Alexander stepped up to the podium and looked around.

Some faces he recognized, but most he did not. John’s younger brother and baby sister were trying not to cry. His sister Martha was staring back at him, her dark eyes shiny, and her hand holding their father’s, who looked completely shut down. On her wrist, he saw John’s familiar bracelet, though now it held two stones instead of one. Alexander looked back once at his notes and began.

“I loved John,” he said proudly, though his voice cracked as he recited his name. Henry Laurens didn’t even glance up. “I felt the deepest affliction at the news I had received at the loss of our dear friend. His career of virtue is at its end. How strangely are human affairs conducted, that so many excellent qualities could not endure a more happy fate!” Alexander smiled slightly at the absurdity of life and death, but touched his cheek and felt it was already wet. “The world will feel the loss of a man who has left few like him behind; and America, of a citizen whose heart realized that patriotism of which others only talk. I feel the loss of a friend whom I truly and most tenderly loved…...and one of a very small number.” Alexander closed his eyes and more tears fell. Before he left the podium, he looked back to see Henry Laurens, his own eyes glossy, sharing the same expression.

 

Alexander spent hours in the garden of the church the funeral was held in. He walked alone to the store. He realized it was quiet uptown. He never liked the quiet before. He visited the church again on Sunday; saw a sign of the cross at the door. And he prayed; that never used to happen before.

“John, you would like it uptown; it’s quiet uptown,” he whispered to himself, walking the length of the city. As the sun began to set over the town, he watched the diminishing light slowly fade. “Look at where we are,” he said softly, imagining he were watching the sunset with John beside him. “Look at where we started…” Alexander glanced around him to make the other smile, but he was still alone.

 _If I could spare his life; if I could trade his life for mine,_ Alexander bargained, _he’d be standing here right now. And he would smile – and that would be enough._ No matter how much he prayed; no matter how much he wished he was able to alter John’s fate, he was utterly helpless to the ways of the world. He was a slave to time, constantly fighting to change what he could not.

The night dropped on the city like a curtain in the final act. He considered staying outside until morning, not minding all that much if he froze or got hypothermia, but Eliza was expecting him to be back in New York the next day. She couldn’t take another heartbreak. Finally, Alexander made his way back to the motel he was staying at for the funeral. Like John’s father had said, he would have to learn to live with the unimaginable.

###### 

Alexander Hamilton could never be defeated. Since he was born, life had been an uphill battle. At a very young age, he realized he was not in control of his fate. Unknown forces worked to take his father, and then his mother, away from him. An act of God, or maybe just some unfortunately timed winds, took his town away from him. His happiness, his dreams, his sense of home, were all yanked away time and time again in the foster care system. Alexander had always struggled to keep his head above the water. Six years ago, just as he felt himself yearning to let go into the deep, his life changed.

Six years ago, his sense of home returned to him, as did his willingness to live. Six years ago, he began to remember what it felt like to laugh again; to be passionate for what he believed. Six years ago, he learned how to love again. Six years ago, he met John Laurens.

Alexander often wondered if it hurt more to lose someone by abandonment, or to lose someone by death. Either way, it would take him years to get over John’s passing. Ever since that fateful day, he had never truly been the same. Food had all but lost their flavor. Music was more of a nuisance than something he enjoyed listening to. All the other activities he originally thought were fun only brought up memories of his lost friend. Alexander longed to touch John’s hand; to stroke his hair; to kiss his mouth; to just _laugh_ with him one last time. Frequently in his dreams, memories of their relationship would replay in his mind, and he would wake in tears.

Eliza was the main proponent in which to help him get through his saddest moments. When he needed her most, she was right on time; just a phone call or door knock away. She consoled him when the memories were too much, and was always the strong support in which he needed in his darkest times. Though very slowly, Eliza taught Alexander how to have joy in his life again. Eventually, she got him to eat regular amounts again. She drew him out of his shell to talk more, and even got him to laugh.

After they graduated from Columbia University, they began to date. Only a couple weeks later, they rented an apartment in New York and were married. They lived there for several years, and raised many children together.

Alexander learned to be content in his life again. Still, however, in the quiet hours of his days, his mind would often drift back to John Laurens. His eldest son, Phillip – whether it be from the freckles on his face, or the way his hair bounced on his shoulders when it grew too long – reminded him so much of his dear friend. Whenever he looked into his face, the painful memory of John entered his mind.

Even as the years stretched on, Alexander still wondered if there was something he could have done to save John. He could have told him not to run at night; he could have called and stalled him from going out; he could have done... _something…_ The list could go on forever, but there was no changing the fact that none of those things happened. Time was against him, and only in hindsight could he dream of being able to save his friend. What Alexander should have learned when his mother died became apparently clear now: he had no control who lives; who dies; who tells their story.

The only thing he could really do was live his life to the fullest extent, and be happy with what he had. He loved John, there was no denying that…but there was absolutely no way to bring him back. In his mind he promised he would always keep him, where he would remember and tell his story. The only regret he had was all the years he wasted not being with him, though he immensely enjoyed the time they were given together.

Truly, Alexander couldn’t wait to see John again. It was only a matter of time…

###### 

_“Death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints; it takes and its takes and it takes…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow, August 27, 2016 marks the 234th year since the actual John Laurens died. In addition to being a character in Hamilton the musical, and possibly Alexander Hamilton's paramour, he was also an important historical figure, though, history mostly overlooks him and his accomplishments.  
> To research for this fic, I relied mainly on [his biggest fan](http://john-laurens.tumblr.com/) to find facts about John Laurens and his family. You should check out her tumblr if you, too, are interested in learning more about the real John Laurens (which I strongly recommend you do)~!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this story. Lord knows I enjoyed making it (I started the first chapter's draft all the way back in mid-June!) I actually teared up while writing this chapter because I was so sad it was ending...let me know if any of you got the feels too! You can also check out some art I made based off this story [on my tumblr](https://sk-turner.tumblr.com/tagged/lams)!
> 
> Finally, thank you all for joining me on this journey. All the kudos, bookmarks, and comments were much, _much_ appreciated; since this was my first fic I've written, my heart honestly skipped a beat when I saw all you guys' support :,)


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